


Frank, We’re Getting The Band Back Together.

by babyhal



Category: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Space Odyssey Series - Arthur C. Clarke
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, I am SO ashamed of this but up it goes ;), It is a 2001 space odyssey band au... I am a king, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Music, Sal is a goth lesbian you WILL accept this., Yearning, chandra is a concerned dad, criminal activity, extreme homosexuality, oh yeah baby oh yeah, slow burn kinda, so much yearning, we also have Forbidden Chandra Triplet...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 58,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyhal/pseuds/babyhal
Summary: Frank Poole and Dave Bowman start a rock band with an android they meet online. Things get gay and dramatic. (updates tuesdays and fridays <3)
Relationships: David Bowman/Frank Poole, David Bowman/HAL 9000, David Bowman/HAL 9000/Frank Poole, kinda together in some respects but it’s not The Same
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	1. Dave Bowman

**Author's Note:**

> hallo friends... new fic... i am very ashamed of this :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for depression, Dave being an absolute mess that worries his friend, and dangerous eating habits

Dave could’ve been an astronaut. He had always wanted to be an astronaut. Ever since he was a kid. But he dropped out of university after the first semester, before he could have the chance to be. His mom called him lazy. Seven years later, his therapist said it was depression and gave him a routine prescription. Two pills each day. The course was supposed to last six months. It’s been two years.

He could have been an astronaut but instead he works in a music store and sometimes sells his art to his friends for a quick buck. Big laboriously painted canvases used as wall art for his more pretentious friends. The sales are starting to become more stable which he’s thankful for. Maybe he can quit his day job - some months, it pays his rent in full. Which is great. He’s not on the best terms with his landlord.

He can’t imagine any homeowner being on good terms with him. He has depression and he mopes. The walls are thin and he cries a lot. He listens to loud music. Plays his piano and sings and writes songs about his dead brother. Sometimes he brings people home for the night and they are loud. Pride flags hang in the windows, his lights are on until the early hours of the morning because he just can’t sleep. Which is what is happening at this precise moment.

Dave Bowman can’t sleep. Again. It’s 4am, starting to get light outside, but his fairy lights are still on. He lays in bed, buries himself deep in his blankets, and sniffs at his pillow. It’s warm, and he’s tired enough to fall asleep. His eyes are almost closed but sleep doesn’t come. He wishes he had someone to hold him but he’s been single for about a year and he hasn’t had any action in months. 

He kissed Frank at a party, actually. As a dare. Less than three seconds but on the lips nonetheless. He enjoyed it but he doesn’t want to do it again. He likes Frank. Of course he likes Frank. Frank gives him free coffee and checks in with him every day. Makes sure he’s taken his medication, taken a shower, brushed his teeth. He cares. But it’s just not right for him. It doesn’t feel right.

Maybe he’s not bisexual. But he’s not straight either. And he’s not gay. Maybe he’s asexual. Maybe he’s just been depressed since he was fifteen years old and he doesn’t know what attraction feels like. Perhaps he is attracted to Frank. Maybe he’s made it out to be bigger than it is.

This is what he thinks about at 4am. He hugs himself and peels his hair from his sweating neck as he turns over to face the bedroom. He’s twenty eight years old and he still sleeps in a single bed. It’s what’s comfortable for him. He likes it. His therapist psychoanalysed him hard on that one. Apparently he wasn’t an adult, or didn’t feel he was. He thinks it’s bullshit. He’s an adult. If anything he feels he’s more an adult than many other adults in his life. He’s been through a lot.

_Think about something else now._

He rubs his fingers over the smooth scars on his chest and flips himself on to his front, where he feels strangely comfortable. His shoulders relax and his back melts as his face hits the pillow. He takes a breath in and the air around him is tense and warm. He closes his eyes tight and tries to relax his mind by focusing on his breathing, and the rhythm of it.

He gets to sleep eventually.

••

Still half asleep Dave makes the walk across town. It’s 8:24, and he doesn’t start work until 9, so when he reaches the street where he works he dives from his path and in to the coffee shop Frank works at. There’s probably a pot waiting for him, along with a patient smile and a look of sympathy. The thought makes him a little happier. He’s anticipated and wanted there. Frank always likes seeing him in the morning.

It’s early enough for the health freaks to have ditched the shop and when Dave walks in he’s alone with Frank and the other barista. Frank takes one look at Dave, and the bags under his eyes, before he speaks.

“There’s this thing called sleeping, Dave. You should try it, it might do you good.” He scolds, angry a moment and no longer. He can’t put it past Dave to be a mess. He always has been, ever since they met.

“I did sleep.” Is his weak rebuttal, as he takes a seat near the counter.

“That’s a first.” Frank pulls out the glass pot of coffee he has prepared for his friend and sidles past his coworkers, down to Dave’s table. “How long for?”

“Uh. Fell asleep about half four. I tried for hours.” Dave shakes his head and yawned, attempting to cover his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m trying and it doesn’t work.”

Frank sits down and finally slides a cup of coffee over to Dave. Black and bitter, brewed since 6am. It’s practically tar, nearly sludge in the cup, but Dave drinks it up like its air. Frank can’t imagine it’s good for him but Dave gets the jitters with or without it. If it does hurt him, he’s past the point of no returns.

“Thanks, Frank.” Dave coughs as he refills his halfway empty cup. He likes it as hot as possible. “Means a lot.”

“It’s not like anyone’s here. What else am I gonna do?” He shrugs. 

It’s more than that. He’s worried about Dave and the free coffee is a way to check on him. To rope him in and make sure he’s still alive and functioning even if he barely does so. He thinks of something else quickly.

“Do you want a brownie? They’ve been here since last night and we have to chuck them out soon. And I _know_ I’m not supposed to give you free food and you always feel like a burden but nobody else is gonna eat them and I’ll take a bet and say that coffee’s the first thing you’ve swallowed since 3pm yesterday.”

Dave thinks for a moment. He’s awake enough now to see that Frank is downright concerned about him. And he’s ashamedly right in saying that Dave hasn’t eaten since 3pm yesterday, which brings a little flush of shame to his cheeks. It hadn’t been deliberate, he’d simply forgotten to eat food and by the time he’d realised it had been far too late. He hates to admit how much that happens.

“Yeah, sure.” What’s the worst that could happen? It makes Frank happy and it tastes like chocolate.

Frank practically jumps from his seat to scrape the staling brownies on to a plate and slams it down in front of Dave. They both eat. He’s actually forgotten just how hungry he is and ends up eating most, which Frank doesn’t seem to mind. The brownies are a little chewy and crunchy around the edges but still soft and gooey inside. If it weren’t for the crusty edges, Dave might think they were freshly baked but instead he owes it to the heat lamp. For the first time in a while, Dave goes to work on a full stomach.

••

He bothers Frank by visiting him after work because he doesn’t want to be aimless, or to forget to eat again. Even if he can tune out the hunger pains it makes him feel shitty and lethargic; today is no exception. The brownies gave him some well needed energy but he got carried away playing with the keyboards instead of eating lunch. Frank scolded him when he found out but Dave could only offer a halfhearted ‘whoops’ as if it was only an inconvenience. Frank knows it is something much more than that.

He also knows it’s not his job to keep Dave safe and sane. He knows Dave is an adult and probably capable of looking after himself but he still doubts that much more than he should. The best way to describe the way Dave lives is ‘in shambles’ which is most certainly not a good thing. But Dave doesn’t like to be helped, either, which makes Frank’s worrying streak a little more pronounced. 

He knows how to help in a few ways. From most to least destructive that is getting Dave fucking loaded, going on shopping sprees, writing emotional music, and looking at dog pictures. (Dave is traditionally a cat person but he loves a golden retriever puppy from time to time.) Currently they sit on the couch writing music. Dave’s written something emotional again and Frank is trying to envision himself singing it.

They’re technically in a band. They’ve written a few songs and get together and play music. Frank puts the keyboard on the coffee table and they sit and record music using the computer in the corner, and a barely there microphone. Their recordings sound tinny and pixelated, but the drive isn’t there to get a real microphone. They don’t even have a band name and Dave thinks all his songs suck.

“So. What does ‘I have no blood, only water remains’ mean?” Frank looks up from the sheet of notebook paper to see Dave’s embarrassed reaction. He coils in to the side of the couch.

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” He coughs sheepishly.

Frank thinks for a second. Dead brother, dead father, estranged mother. Oh. He makes up for the sudden awkwardness in his realisation by choking up a mindless complement.

“It’s a good line, I like it. I just wanted to know if it meant something, so I can sing it with that kinda meaning.”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could sing this one. It’s pretty important to me.”

“What am I gonna do if we perform it?”

“You’re a bassist. We _need_ a baseline. Every song needs a baseline.”

“I thought this was a piano ballad of some kind.”

“Oh. You think?” 

“Yeah.”

This is how the night progresses. They work out a tune and Dave works up the courage to do a few runthroughs. He slinks down on to the floor and plays jauntily at first but becomes more confident as his fingers slide between the off white keys and play diligently. Frank likes seeing it. Even if they sound a little cliché, Dave seems to genuinely enjoy himself. A smile trickles on to his lips as he pours his heart out over the tinny keyboard. He’d been right in saying it was definitely suited for a piano ballad.

Eventually they record it. The song clocks in at just under seven minutes long, and three of that is Dave just playing until his hands cry out in pain from hitting the keys, attempting to be impressive in a tricky little solo. They choose not to listen to it in fear they won’t like it.

They sit on the balcony. Dave forces his legs through the slits in the thin metal fencing, dangling in to nothingness. Frank lays next to him, staring at the city. 

“We should take the plunge, Dave. Start a band.” He looks up at his friend, who’s stripped down to baggy trousers and a vest. “Like, actually. Put songs on the internet and get a decent fuckin’ mic. No record label ‘cause we’re. I dunno. Making a statement.”

“You got a name?” Dave looks at him. He seems genuinely interested. 

“Uh. I fuckin.’ Gimme a second.” Frank looks at the sky above him. “Discovery One. After that ship that went up there a couple years ago, and everyone onboard died. Out in the wastes of Jupiter... isn’t that a cool album name?”

“Isn’t that in really bad taste? People died, Frank.” He lays back and stretches out his shoulders.

“Like. It would make us seem insensitive - don’t groupies dig that? Someone’s gotta dig that. Depends on the music we make. If it’s super fucked up and jaded and tearjerking like what you just spat out nobody’s gonna care.”

“Fuck it. Not like anyone’s gonna listen to it.”

Frank reaches a hand out for Dave to shake. “Welcome to Discovery One.”


	2. Hal Chandra

Androids are a very oppressed minority. Hal Chandra is fortunately one of the more sheltered ones. He lives with his dad and his sister in a quiet suburb. He spends a lot of time in his room on the internet, making friends, posting little ramblings. His entire profile wall is a little slice of what it is like to be Hal Chandra. He plays DND with all his friends and trades shiny cards he doesn’t understand and paints little figures.

He isn’t allowed to go outside much. His dad made that mistake with his sister and now she spends all her money in Hot Topic, wears eyeliner, and listens to emo music in the middle of the night. Hal prefers orchestral music and 60’s love songs. When he’s allowed to go out, he likes to stalk comic book stores and toy stores. He spends a lot of money on tiny blank figures and stuffed animals, which he sleeps in a warm, happy pile of. 

Of course, he knows how lucky he is to have such a nice life. He knows of android fighting rings and slavery. He is glad that he lives in the suburbs and that he can be cuddled and that he has a warm bed to ‘sleep’ in. But he wishes sometimes that he could do something interesting.

Two people have approached him online after seeing his poems. They’re starting a band and they want him to help them write songs. He’s told them he can also sing and play the piano, which they greatly appreciate. He’s going to meet up with them in the town square, and Sal has agreed to join him until she’s made sure he would be safe with them - and that makes sure their father won’t stop him from doing so. He’s very excited by the prospect of being in a band and he won’t let his father’s rules stop him.

Sal dresses up in her full goth regalia and attempts to do something similar to him. He tries at first but it’s useless. He hates the way the makeup feels sticky and slimy on his face, she helps him take it off. It’s an ordeal and he ends up feeling very edgy and twitchy. She entertains him with a tangle and a big soft cardigan, and she helps him get the bus in to the square. Next to him she looks like a protector or otherwise a big, mean guardian. Nobody sits near them.

Hal thinks this is because Sal looks badass, with her spiked calf-length leather jacket and streaky hair. Sal knows this is because they are both strikingly androids. Her little brother has a red lens where one of his eyes should be, and she has a blue one on the opposite side of her face. Though maybe it is a mixture of both. She gives him one of her earphones and they listen to quiet music. Hal reads and scribbles a few notes in a book, or plays with his tangle. Sal has an eye-only flirting match with a girl sat just across from them.

When they are at the stop, Sal takes her brother by the hand and waits by one of the coffee stores with him. 

“Who are we looking for?” Hal chirps, practically hiding behind her.

“Two guys. Did they ever send you a picture?”

“No.” He shakes his head, and his voice is adorably small.

“You’re an idiot, Hal.” She chides, and flicks him. He recoils from her instinctively and instead hides by a lamppost. “I didn’t mean it like that, Hal, come back here.”

He obliges when he has a hold of himself and returns to standing behind her, trying to bury himself in her shadow. He’s perpetually anxious and self-conscious whenever he goes outside. He’s always scared he’ll make the wrong move in a conversation or bump shoulders with the wrong person. He’s awkward and comes off as rude in certain aspects and he hates it.

“I expect them to at least a little goth.” She explains, and she tightens her grip on his hand. “You’re worried about meeting them?”

“Yes.” He admits plainly. “I don’t think I have ever made a human friend.”

“You’ve made plenty of human friends. Plus, they know you’re an android, of course you’re going to be a little shaky in your expression.”

“Does dad know we’re doing this?”

“Yeah, I told him. Don’t worry, it’s all gonna be fine.” She puts one hand on the top of his arm to soothe him, then folds her arms.

Dave spots Sal first. A big, scary woman in a long leather coat, spikes on her shoulders. A long skirt, split at the knees and held together with safety pins. It’s a _bold_ look, but with her arms crossed around her chest he thinks she pulls it off. Frank doesn’t get it. He’d never wear it himself, and at that he’s hit with a sense of foreboding - does he _really_ want this woman in his band? He also thought that ‘Hal’ was a guy. Or maybe she is a guy? He can’t tell.

Frank is the first to speak as they reach her. Clearly a woman. “Are you Hal?”

“No, this is Hal.” She pulls Hal from behind her, and realises what a sight he looks in an argyle pullover vest, a polo shirt, and a big fluffy cardigan. He’s adorable. To top it off, he’s got rosy cheeks, dimples, and his one eye is bright and twinkling. He smiles coyly - the dimples flare up, and it’s so surprising to see them replicate so well - and Dave’s sure he feels butterflies in his chest. “Look, I know he doesn’t look like what you talked to but he’s good with writing lyrics, y’know? I think you should consider him. You could put him in all black, he might look a little more goth.”

“Hm. I see.” Frank nods slowly. “Dave, what do you think?”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover. Do you wanna come for a coffee?” 

Hal nods earnestly, and Dave gestures towards the coffee shop with his head. He skips past Sal and towards them, finding somewhere to sit. Frank pulls Dave aside.

“Look. Are you. Are you sure about him? Or do you just think he’s cute?” Frank hisses. “Because he is fucking adorable, but is he. Is he gonna fit with the band?”

“She said he wrote those lyrics. They were good, Frank. We’ll just put him in all black and hope he thrives.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“We’ll do some runthroughs with him. He’ll be okay, I promise. We just gotta get to know him first, that’s what matters.”

“You have a lot of blind faith in a guy that dresses and acts like a fuckin’ six year old.” Frank crosses his arms. Dave rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, towards Hal.

“Just give him a chance.” He calls, and he sits down across from the android. He notices that Sal is sat at the other side of the room and watching viciously. He reaches a hand out for Hal to shake. “Hi, Hal. I’m Dave. Dave Bowman.”

“Hello. I am Hal Chandra. I am a specially modified 9000-model computer within an android body.” Hal shakes Dave’s hand and smiles earnestly. “It is very nice to meet you in person, Dave.”

“It is. It’s nice to put a face to the man behind those lyrics.”

“Ah. I have noticed you are very concerned about my appearance.”

“Oh, I’m not. I don’t think it matters. And if it does need to be done, we can put you in something black with no problems. Doesn’t even have to be uncomfortable, we’ll find something that works.”

Hal nods eagerly and smiles, surprised someone picked up on it. “When did you start the band?”

“A couple days ago. You haven’t missed much. Can you sing?”

“Yes. My dad taught me to sing a song. I can sing it for you now, if you would like.”

“We’ll listen later. Can you play any instruments?” 

“I can play the guitar. Sal plays the drums.”

“The lady over there?” Dave points at Sal, who’s still giving him the stink eye.

“Yes. She is my sister, and very talented for her motor skills module. I am considered to be of a similar skill level. Unfortunately there is only so much I can do, without an upgrade to that subsystem my hands will not move in that way.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem. I don’t know much about finer android subsystems but from what I know you’d still be much better than me or Frank.” Dave chuckles, and Frank joins them with a fresh pot of coffee; the way Dave likes it. “Speaking of, this is Frank. I don’t think you’ve met him.”

“Frank Poole.” Frank nods as Dave pours himself coffee.

“I am Hal Chandra, a specially modified 9000-model computer in an android body. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Frank.”

They shake hands, and Hal is happy to retreat his hands in to his lap. He fiddles nervously under the table but doesn’t allow the anxiety to show on his face. Truth be told, he feels like he’s falling down, even though the chair is steady beneath him. His father has told him this is a physical symptom of anxiety humans often experience, though that doesn’t ease him at all now.

“So, Hal. Can you play any instruments?” Frank tilts his head.

“Yes. I explained to Dave already that I can play the guitar, and I can sing. My guitar skills are intermediate to advanced for an android.” 

“Wow, that’s... convenient.” Frank nods, looking fairly impressed. “I’m the bassist myself. Dave is our pianist, and if you get him going he’s hell of a singer.”

Dave smiles coyly at the compliment. His eyes flitter to the wall. Hal sees it as an avoidance, or perhaps skirting around the talent he possesses. For whatever reason, he does not know. 

“And how do you ‘get him going?’” 

“Well, that’s where you come in. You have to write a song he really likes.” 

Dave blushes and his head turns away fully. Embarrassment over his ability. Hal can also imagine it’s not nice to be spoken about like he’s not in the room. 

“Dave, do you like my poetry?”

“Yes, I do.” He turns back towards the conversation, but he still averts his gaze from Frank.

“Then I don’t think that will be much of a problem.” 

Frank can see, within five minutes of meeting Hal, that despite his outward shyness Hal’s extremely confident in himself and his internal abilities. It’s his exterior interactions that make him uncomfortable. He’s afraid of coming off as something he’s not.

There’s a pause as Frank considers something. Dave chugs his coffee and without regards to Frank, pours himself another cup. _That can’t be healthy,_ Hal thinks, and he’s taken aback with mild concern. He pulls the glass jug away, Frank seems to nod in agreement.

“We did ask if you could write something specifically for us. Did you?”

“Yes, and I have brought it with me for your approval.” He loses his concerned disposition and fumbles in his bag for a fluffy spiral notebook, adorned with shiny stickers and a heart-shaped padlock. “Please do not mind the appearance of my notebook. I simply appreciate its aesthetics and texture.”

He fumbles for a chain under his vest and pulls out the key to the notebook, and opens it for his new friends. He flips through the pages until he finds what he wrote - in sparkling purple gel pen and cursive, every tittle a tiny heart. Frank takes it from him and begins to read, Dave peeks in through his coffee.

It is dark and terrifyingly morbid, filled with meaning and emotion hiding behind a masterfully constructed facade. Dave can’t believe that such a wonderfully innocent-seeming person would write such a thing. He hopes that perhaps Hal isn’t aware of the emotions he evokes in his writing, that he’s picked it up somewhere. 

He’s honestly a little disturbed by the neat, glittery cursive, and how it transcribes to Hal’s words. They are the words of someone who has suffered a great deal. When he looks at Hal he doesn’t see any of that pain; just a sweet little smile and an adorable pair of dimples. Which, in a way, makes it even worse. If he has suffered, he is hiding it very well. Dave is immensely concerned.

“Hal...” His voice trails for a moment as he thinks of something to say. “Are you okay? Do you need a hug or something?”

“I like hugs. But why?”

“This is. What you wrote. It’s. Really dark, Hal. It makes me a little worried.” He’s not a ‘little worried.’ He wants to comfort this android and let him know that everything is just fine. Nothing is as bleak as this song makes it out to be.

“No, I am okay. I simply wrote what I thought of.” Hal maintains his delightful smile. Dave‘s still filled with the urge to cuddle him and tell him it’s all okay.

“It’s fuckin’ good though.” Frank puts the book down. “Like. Really good. I want this on the album.”

“Does that mean I’m in the band?”

“Yeah. I mean. If I’m impressed by your guitar or singing. Which I’m pretty sure I will be.”

Hal nods. This pleases him. 


	3. Frank Poole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! it’s me. 
> 
> CW for drinking alcohol.

Hal writes another song over lunch. He sits politely in the corner of the booth and scribbles away with his big pink pen and even comes up with his own little tune, marked accordingly in glittery purple. Dave sits to his side and looks over every now and then, to check his progress. To check on him. It’s really quite sweet.

Though it’s a little different when he is in Frank’s sitting room and expected to sing it out loud. It’s very, very different and it has him doubting a lot of things. He knows the tune is pleasing and that his lyrics are, more than likely, as haunting as the last song he wrote. 

The problem arises as he does not know if he can convey what he has envisioned through his own voice. The more he hears those around him speak the more monotone he realises he is. The wound of this insecurity is particularly gaping and sore today. If he was a little less human it might not matter to him but it does and it sits on his face as a sad little frown.

His new friends sit in front of him. He sits to be on their level, it feels a lot less formal. He feels like maybe a mistake would be encouraged, and that they would be able to understand his... difficulties... in engaging and interacting with the world around him. He doesn’t know why this change in posture assures him in this way. Dave gives him a patient smile, and a little twinkle of his eye, as if to tell him ‘take your time.’ It feels real and genuine and it’s comforting.

It’s only lyrics. And he has a riff and a melody worked out; at least a little bit of it. He’s open to changing it. He knows how he will sing it to them, and that’s a good place to start.

“Well. I wrote this over lunch. It is really not my best work and I am open to editing it, but after we talked about what you were thinking of, I thought it was important to get some ideas down.”

Okay. He _really_ has to stop stalling, but Dave has given him a kind-spirited thumbs up. It’s such a sweet gesture it throws him off a little.

“We’d like to hear it, when you’re ready.” 

Hal takes a sharp breath in and hits his fingers down on the keyboard in front of him, beginning the few bars of rough-draft chords he arranged to form his little song. He’s not a pianist by any means of the imagination and his hands feel clunky against the keys. He possesses just enough technical skill to show them what he envisioned.

When he’s in the rhythm of the riff, played rather jauntily with his left hand, actually opening his mouth to sing comes easy. He tries quite hard to sound human at first but gives up after a few lines, giving in to his natural synthesised voice. He sings slowly and uses the pace of his fingers on the ivory-coloured keys to build tension in the composition, even if he can’t change the tone himself. 

Dave and Frank are transfixed on him, and he avoids their gaze. Just knowing how heavily their eyes focus on him is enough to make him feel quite warm all over his body. A natural response to embarrassment. 

The tempo picks up and his voice doubles down as he hits the refrain to feel darker and deeper, even it it retains that mid-Atlantic monotone his friends know him for. He glides through the lyrics and even works in a little deliberate flair where he just _barely_ hits keys as his fingers move, adding messy depth. He finishes off with two high chords and silence falls on the room.

Frank needs a moment to collect himself, while Dave is well and truly stunned. Frank has the suspicion that Hal has very little clue what he is doing, and what he is capable of. Even now Hal sits with his hands neatly clasped in the bowl his crossed legs make. After he has contemplated what he has heard, he looks at Hal and holds out a hand.

“You’re in the band, dude.”

“Oh!” Hal jumps up a little, almost like he had fallen asleep while waiting for Frank to speak. When he shakes off the initial shock he shakes Frank’s hand vigorously, jerking it wildly up and down in excitement. “Thank you!”

“You’re very talented.” Dave smiles and nods. 

“Stick to guitar though, he can’t play it.” Frank coughs, mockingly hiding his moving lips behind the back of his hand. Dave rolls his eyes. “That, Hal. Is gonna be on the album. I’m telling you. That’s gold material.”

“It is really just a... musical scribble.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it took you to write. It sounds _fucking_ amazing, especially for a demo. Like, really. If we were that way inclined we could straight up put that on there, it sounds so good. But I think we should be a little more built up than that.”

“Could I suggest how we build it up?” Dave tilts his head, bites his lip, and waits for a response. Frank gives him a nod. “You could start with. How Hal did it, and then just keep getting darker and heavier until that last chorus, and then we just go completely quiet and Hal does the coda himself. On his own. I think that would work.”

“Fuck yeah, Dave.”

“I think that is a good idea.” Hal pulls his tangle from his pocket and starts to play with it. “Do you have any songs you’d like to show me?”

“I wrote something I’m proud of a few days ago, Frank has heard it but I don’t think I sent it to you.”

“Oh, is that the one you wrote about-“

“Yeah. I can sing it now or I can play it here, I worked out that piano bit at home.”

He doesn’t expect it, but Frank smiles when he hears that. “Your turn on the keyboard.”

Dave inhales sharply as Hal rotates the keyboard over to him. Funnily enough, he’s learnt the lyrics, and he knows how to play the solo he had planned. He shouldn’t be anxious, but it’s not just Frank in the room anymore. He’s sat across from someone filled to the brim with talent, someone he _admires_. And of course, he admires Frank to some extent, but Hal feels like he’s on a completely different level to the two remaining band members.

“This song is about my brother, mostly. He died in an accident when I was fifteen.” He addresses Hal, who nods knowingly. There’s real empathy in the way his face falls. “It’s been like. Twelve years, but I’m trying to externalise it. Therapist says it’s good for me and all that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Dave. I will support your recovery in whatever way I can.”

After a quick breath, he begins to play. Like Hal, he sheds his anxiety within playing the first few bars. He plays solemnly, with feeling, and Hal watches him in transfixed awe as he begins to sing. To work off the burning in his cheeks he closes his eyes as he plays and sings from the heart. Maybe he changes the more embarrassing lyrics a little, tweaks them to seem more elegant but they still describe, for the most part, how he feels. 

When he hits the piano solo Hal can’t describe the way Dave’s hands move over the keys. They aren’t weighted - it’s a cheap keyboard - but the gentle, graceful way he plays makes it seem like they are. He builds to a masterful crescendo, lips shut, funnelling anger and sadness in to the way he plays. It’s almost cathartic to play this in front of someone he doesn’t know so well, to expose his traumatic memories to the world. Even if it is only Hal. He may as well be singing this out on the rooftop and broadcasting it to the world.

When he begins to sing again his fingers fall across the keys like the current of a stream, tumbling over the ivory blocks. Hal’s truly captivated by the way he plays and it shows in the way his eyes follow after Dave’s fingers. He is clearly the pianist of the group.

When he finally finishes his hands stiffen and recoil from the keys, and he stretches them out. They snap back in to an angry, jaunty curl, strong enough to rip skin. The longer the silence that falls stays, the more irregular the curling becomes.

“That is very beautiful, Dave.” Hal says slowly, though without hesitance. It had simply taken him a moment to think. “I can see that you are still very affected by his death. If I can be of any help to you, please let me know.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“I think it is very important that this song is on our album. Dave has put a lot of effort in to it.” Hal looks over to Frank. He has asserted himself clearly. “What time is it?”

Dave is still blushing from the compliment. It takes him a second to collect himself and pull his sleeve back to check his watch.

“Uh. Nearly 10pm. I think your sister will be here soon.” 

“Oh. I see.” Hal nods. “We can walk you home, Dave.”

“I’m going to stay here with Frank, I think.”

Frank looks over, a little confused, but shrugs it off. Hal stands up and starts to gather his things and Dave follows, helping him get his fluffy backpack (with bunny ears at the top and a cute face on the back) together. When he’s all trussed up, he looks truly adorable, especially with his rosy cheeks, his cute little smile, and his twinkling eyes. 

“Hal, I just wanted to say. Um. You really don’t seem like the type of person to be writing what you write. And I. If you ever needed someone to talk to about. About any problems. Then I am here for you. And I, I really mean that. That’s not just a nicety, I’ll really be there for you.”

“Why would I need help?”

“You. It seems like. Like you don’t write this because you’re in to the goth aesthetic. It feels like you write it because you’re in pain, and to. See that.” He shakes his head rubs his arms. “Well, I just. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here whenever you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is, I’ll try and help.”

“You are very kind, Dave. But I promise you I am just fine.”

“Well if you ever need me I am here. Even if you just want a hug or something.”

“I would like a hug.”

Dave opens his arms and Hal fills them happily. Dave realises he’s touch starved as he latches on to Hal and holds him tightly. Yet Hal remains upright, realising Dave needs this hug much more than he does. Hal feels quite vulnerable but he’s somewhat happy to be vulnerable in the presence of someone else who has exposed himself in the same way. He buries his head in to the space between Dave’s neck and shoulder. He smells nice. He’s got this masculine cloud about him, men’s deodorant, heavy with cheap cologne. He’s warm, a little lanky and bony but still very warm and very in to their hug.

Hal’s a good hugger and Dave can’t remember the last time he was hugged properly. He thinks it might have been Frank, or his last one night stand. A woman who held him, though half heartedly, where he had the best night’s sleep he had in a while. Hal pats his back and Dave nearly melts in his grasp. 

They are pulled apart by a knock at the door. Hal can’t stop smiling broadly and he flaps his hands down by his sides because he’s so ridiculously excited by the prospect of being hugged by his new friend. He doesn’t even feel like an idiot and it’s wonderful. The smile is a little unnatural and his faux skin wrinkles strangely around his eyes, but it’s endearing and it’s nice to see. Androids do not usually smile this much.

Dave pulls the door open to see Sal. Her and Hal have a very similar face at first glance but they’re also very different. They have the same dark skin and white hair, of course. Chubby cheeks and relatively round faces. But Hal’s nose is a little more snub, the bridge of Sal’s nose is a little humped. She has a few prominent wrinkles under her eyes, his mouth is a lot fuller than her’s. There are such minor differences between them but their entire aesthetics are changed by them. He is adorable and she is foreboding.

“What happened to you?” She snarks. “What did you do to him?”

“He hugged me! I really needed it!” Hal flaps his hands. Her face softens when she sees just how excited he is.

“That’s... good, Hal. I’m gonna take you home now.”

“Okay. Bye, Dave.” Hal hugs Dave quickly before running out the door and hiding behind Sal. His natural, adorable state. 

“Bye, Hal.” He smiles, leaning against the doorframe. “Can you come tomorrow?”

“Yeah!” He exclaims. Sal rolls her eyes.

“We’ll see. Come on, Hal.” She practically drags him down the hall and Dave waves Hal away.

••

He doesn’t quite know how he ends up cuddling with Frank. Not kissing. It’s barely even romantic, just two drunk friends cuddling on a couch. Dave puts his head on Frank’s chest and loses himself in his heartbeat. Sometimes Frank will play with his hair, and he chirps happily whenever it happens.

He think it might have something to do with hugging Hal and realising his need for affection, but he chooses not to question it because he loves being trussed up like this. The TV blares, the floor is littered with pages of lyrics and instruments. He’s scared to get up and walk because he just might trip over the keyboard and smash his skull on the credenza.

He strains his eyes and looks up through his lashes to see Frank is staring at the ceiling blankly. After a few seconds of struggling he lays his head back down and focuses on the rhythmic beating of Frank’s heart.

“What are you thinking about?” Dave mumbles. He slurs a little, it’s probably the vodka. They drank after Hal left, to celebrate how well the album was coming along. For fun, too, of course. It was only supposed to be a homemade cocktail but Frank drank a little too much in the rush.

That almost worries Dave. He has a little time now to worry about everyone else around him. But he drinks too - does that make him an enabler, should this be a bad habit? He doesn’t know, and it’s a difficult thing to navigate while his head is so foggy. He vows to mull over it properly in the morning but he already knows he won’t.

“What if we make it big? Like. And make a whole bunch of money or something. What would I even do with it?”

“I’d have my surgery done.” Dave smiles weakly, eyelids beginning to droop. “It’s a lot of money, and it’s more ‘cause I wanna. Have kids some day, y’know? They don’t make this shit accessible.”

“You want kids?”

“One day. If I meet the right person, and we settle down, then I can have a baby. I’ve just, always wanted one I guess. Not badly, but it’s something I’d like.”

Frank nods. He’s listening.

“When I was little. Like. Before I came out. Five, I think. I had a baby doll. And I used to tell people I was his dad. Then I made Bobby cut all my hair off in the bedroom. Mom was. Fucking livid, actually. So she said ‘if you want to be a boy, be one’ and she took my dolls and dresses away to try and punish me but it made me so happy. She almost took the doll but I hid him just in time.”

“You don’t tell me about your childhood a lot.”

“Well. Yeah. I guess it’s not something I’ve ever really wanted to tell you, I never thought you’d want to know.”

“I do, I think it’s good to get it out. Externalise it.”

“Y’know it was Bobby who named me. We were like, well. I used to crawl in to his bed at night during all the storms. And I must have been seven or eight and I had my short hair and I wore all his old clothes instead of my own. We were lying together under the covers and he told me that I looked like a boy now. I told him I liked it. So he said I could be a boy if I wanted and I said I’d like that so he said I needed a new name and I was seven and I just didn’t know so he just said David, like the statue because we had a tiny one in our bathroom. Said it suited me. And he started calling me Dave cause ‘David’ was too uptight for me and he never went back.”

“He sounds like he was a good guy. I’m sorry you lost him.”

“He was my best friend.”

“I know.” Frank says softly. He puts one hand in Dave’s hair and one on his back. “It’s not your fault.”

“They say that but it really is. I didn’t even fuckin’ _try_ and tell him the rig was broken and that is the worst part. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

“You were suffering from oxygen starvation, you weren’t there. To be honest I’m surprised you made it up. I’m glad, though. I’ve grown to like you.”

Halfway to tears, Dave chokes on his own breath in laughing and stops talking completely for a moment as he consoles himself. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Frank, even if he’s done it before. He’s sober enough to want to protect his dignity. 

“What was your, uh. Your baby doll called?” Frank changes the subject himself.

“I was three or four when I got him. He was just called baby.”

“That’s actually adorable. You still got him somewhere?”

“I think mom still has him. In the attic somewhere. I stopped playing with him as I got older and just kept him in my bed, until mom took him one day. Said if I was a boy I didn’t need to know how to raise a kid, which I thought was funny as hell at the time, but now I just think it’s sad.” Dave opens an eye to look up at Frank. 

“Did you ever think of any names? That’s where I struggle, if I ever daydream about that sort of thing. It’s a big decision even when you’re like. Just thinking.” 

“Yeah, I know where you’re coming from. But I always thought something biblical. Or maybe I’d just stick to my roots and name him Baby.”

Frank laughs at that. “Please don’t call your kid Jesus.”

“I wouldn’t. So... you want kids? Didn’t expect that.” Dave’s desperate to change the subject again. He feels too open around Frank and it’s really starting to bug him. He’s scared of being so honest with someone, even if they are _literally_ cuddling, an innate show of trust and affection.

“Yeah. Maybe. One day. I’m like you, I wanna settle down properly. Don’t really wanna take the rock star approach to it. Get myself married, get a nice house in the suburbs, then maybe have a baby. Though I’m not as like, set on it as you are. You seem to have it all planned. Sometimes I think about it in passing.”

“Not good at being spontaneous.” Dave shrugs and shifts comfortably. His whole body feels tired, and he wants to sleep in Frank’s arms. Such a gesture is likely socially unacceptable, but it’s a want and not a need.

“I know.” Frank turns on to his side, facing away from the TV. Dave lays there lazily, puts a hand up on Frank’s shoulder. Their faces are unbearably close, their legs lock between each other. 

It’s soft and suggestive but it feels mindless all at once. Frank has found someone to cuddle, Dave has found someone to cuddle him. Conversation comes easy when they’re so close. It’s hard to be awkward while holding one another so readily.

“I haven’t been this close to someone in months.” Dave admits, muffled by Frank’s shirt. Their surroundings are silent enough for Frank to hear.

“Do you not like it?”

“I do, but it’s weird... and it’s comforting to be held, too. Like. I think the last time I was held like this was that party we went to.“

“Where we kissed?”

“Yeah.” Dave nods, barely, but Frank feels it. He stifles a yawn and instinctively stretches but catches himself in the nick of time. Frank thinks it’s cute. 

“Do you want to do it again?”

“I. N-no.” Dave stammers. “Not because I, I. Don’t want to, necessarily, or that it was a bad kiss, I. It was a good kiss. I liked it.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“You’re my friend. I don’t want to. Fall in love and lose you when I inevitably fuck it up.”

“Oh. You like me that much?”

“I just don’t want to be reckless.”

Frank nods and puts one of his hands in Dave’s hair, and one on his back. He feels comfort wash over him as Dave links his arms together behind his back. Silence falls and it’s quite cosy between them. Dave starts thinking he might actually fall asleep in another person’s arms, and right before he does fall asleep he gives Frank the most pert little kiss on the lips. Nothing more than a peck. But Frank smiles all the same, pulls Dave a little closer. They forget they’re on the couch and they fall asleep easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dave voice* what if we cuddled on your couch and we were both boys? o.o


	4. Wastes of Jupiter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it me. making characters slutty to Cope.
> 
> CW for Dave being a bit of a hoe

The album is done within two months and Frank, being himself, has managed to his band a gig to showcase it. It isn’t much. They will be performing a small set, thirty minutes at the most, before a DJ takes over. Part of a support-small-bands thing some of the underground clubs are doing. That doesn’t make it any less grandiose.

They have a changing room. It takes the three of them two hours to ready themselves, and a lot of that is chasing Hal in to something black. They bought him a black sweater which he’s happy enough in, but he complains if he’s not in slacks and they don’t have a pair in purple to match the rest of the band. They end up dressing him in full black. He won’t wear makeup, not even lipstick (he says it’s too heavy and that he won’t sing properly) and he tunes his guitar to a very pernickety standard in the corner.

Dave wears a purple suit jacket without a shirt beneath it, and tucks it in to his structured trousers. His chest feels wonderfully flat against the bulk of the fuchsia collar and for the first time since he was 11, he wears lipstick. He feels spectacular, gorgeously masculine and comfortable in his expression. Hal pulls him aside before they are to go on stage.

“What’s the matter?” Dave’s learnt to baby Hal a little. It soothes him. 

“I’m very scared, Dave. I know I will make no mistakes - both me and Sal are foolproof - but I am still somewhat afraid of being watched by so many people. What if they don’t like us?”

“Of course they will, Hal! They wouldn’t let us play here if they didn’t like our music. Frank brought them a tape and they really liked it.” He smiles, and he cups Hal’s cheek with his hand. Hal buries himself readily and holds it with his own. Dave has no clue how they’ve become so intimate with one another but they have. Of course, Hal stands in front of his crush and sops up the affection like a mop.

He doesn’t quite know why he’s got such a big crush on Dave, but he has and it’s wonderful. Everything Dave does makes him blush, or even flustered, and he can’t help it. He wants Dave to hold him and kiss him, he wants to spend all night with him, curled up and spooning. Hal has never spooned before, not once, barely even cuddled with someone other than his family. He hugged Dave and now he is shamelessly, hopelessly in love!

It’s not real love yet. Or it wouldn’t be if he were human. He doesn’t know how love and intimacy really works for androids. And he knows he’s also incapable of sex in the traditional sense because he is ‘anatomically incorrect.’ But he’s sure that Dave would love him either way - he’s so caring, so kind, so good at hugs.

“Are you sure?” Hal pouts. It’s an excuse to get a little closer to Dave, as Dave pulls him close and cuddles him tightly. “Oh!”

“There we go, Hal.” Dave nuzzles his nose in to Hal’s snowy hair and rocks him from side to side. He’s really gotten quite good at comforting Hal. “Is that a little better?”

“Maybe a little.” 

“You know you can just ask for a hug, Hal. I don’t mind it.”

Hal doesn’t respond and instead buries himself in to the shoulder he’s being held against. That familiar cloud of masculine scents engulfing him. Absentmindedly he raises a hand and puts it flat on Dave’s pale bare chest. Not trying to be overly intimate, he pulls it away and shakes it off quickly, but the feeling of touching him almost lingers on his hands. After a while Hal pulls away, not wanting to drag the cuddle out or make Dave uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” Hal says, voice small. He’s quite flustered and Dave can see it.

“Anytime.”

“You guys ready? We need to like. Set up properly. I think it works but it’s just checking.” Frank swaggers along, showing off his new purple velvet jacket. Hal reaches for Frank’s sleeve and feels the suede with a little smile on his face. He likes the feeling of it. “You really like this, don’t you, Hal?”

“It is very soft. I like the texture.”

“I’ll see if I can get you a little tab of fabric. You can feel it whenever you’d like.”

“I would like that!” Hal claps his hands excitedly. “I would really really like that.”

“I think I’m gonna have it altered, so I’ll just ask the tailor to give me the fabric back. You can rub that to your heart’s content.”

“Yes!”

“Okay. I’ll do that. But first, final checks.”

••

When Dave is about to start singing, a weight drops in his stomach. The harsh studio lights that shine on him and nearly melt the grease-paint lipstick makes it so he can’t see his audience unless he looks hard, but he’s still terrified. He puffs his chest out and signals to Frank that he’s ready.

Frank starts playing and Dave feels his cue come on. When he starts singing his heart seems to open and the words flow out. He grips the microphone and he pours their opening song to the world, in the clearest, most beautiful voice he can muster. Hal brings his guitar in and the song takes on a whole different form, it becomes darker and deeper. The audience murmurs at first but they quieten as the song progresses, their heads fixed towards the stage and the myriads of purple lights. Jewel tones reminiscent of amethysts and iolite bounce from the various fabrics of their costumes in such interesting ways.

Dave brings his voice to a climactic crescendo. It is silent save for the sound of his voice, Hal’s murmured vocalising behind him, the drilling bass in the background that shadows each and every word. Then he drops to silence, for less than a second, and he begins singing again.

“And I’ll find you, in the wastes of Jupiter.” His voice is nearly a whisper, and it’s not shadowed by anything. Him, and him alone. “I’ll find you when I need you again. I won’t ask any questions, I’ll bury my obsessions, just as long as I can meet you there.” 

Hal picks up his voice to back Dave’s, as he works his way in to the final chorus. They grow louder, voices intertwining, before Dave extends himself to the whole room. Not a single soul in the club doesn’t hear him. And he’s not got the voice of an angel but he can hit his notes and it’s so rife with emotion that he doesn’t mind the weaknesses he does have.

When they finally grow silent they are met with a round of furious applause. His cheeks redden and his breath hitches in his throat. Dave Bowman has never felt so good.

••

Dave doesn’t know where he is when he wakes up. He still feels the cathartic high of performing brewing deep in his chest. He’s on a futon, in a dirty room, next to a man he doesn’t know. Middle aged, definitely. Salt and pepper hair, a couple of defined smile lines by his mouth and eyes. He’s made worse choices, even though he doesn’t know if they had sex or not. 

He decides to keep it that way, as he begins to creep out the bed and put on his clothes from the night before. It’s still ridiculously early, 5am at the latest, and he feels a hangover coming on, so he decides to head home before the headache gets worse. He’ll get some real sleep there. He gets dressed quietly and tries not to wake his temporary partner up. His chest suddenly feels very bare even though he felt so gorgeous the night before.

As he’s about to leave through the front door, he looks back to see the man looking right at him. He’s wrapped a blanket around his waist to protect his decency.

“Leaving so soon?”

“I gotta be at work.” Dave shakes his head, hand on the doorknob. 

“Oh. You’ll call?”

“Uh. Maybe.” He shakes a sudden bolt of energy off. “What happened last night?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. You were very drunk by the time I took you home. Good set, by the way.”

“Thanks. I’m... I’m going to go now. I need to get some sleep.” He shuffles with the doorknob uncomfortably and slips away, bag over his shoulders.

When he’s left the building he knows he’s pretty close to Frank’s place. It’s maybe two blocks over, so he powerwalks his way there. He knows Frank will have at least a couch to sleep on, and maybe he can pretend it didn’t happen. He has a key. He hurries up the back sets of stairs and lets himself in to the hallway, where he fumbles with the keys to let himself in to Frank’s place. 

Hal is laid on the couch with a stuffed toy in his arms. His eyes are shut and his mouth is just slightly agape, so much he might be dribbling a little if he could do so. Dave shuts the door behind him and lays down with Hal, who opens his eyes quite quickly.

“Dave?”

“Shh, Hal. I wanna sleep.” He presses a finger to Hal’s lips and gets a little closer, putting his arms around Hal. One of his hands rests on his upper back, the other cups his hip.

“Are you okay, Dave?” Hal tilts his head, using his own fingers to prop Dave’s eyes open. Checking for signs of intoxication, though thankfully he isn’t. He’s just tired.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. What happened last night?”

“You and Frank got drunk after the performance. You went to a man’s house because he wanted to ‘get cosy.’ We came back here.” Hal says plainly, though it feels quite forced. 

The words feel almost angry. Hal’s not stupid - he knows ‘get cosy’ is likely a euphemism for sex. And he isn’t necessarily angry about Dave having sex with someone else, even if the idea brings him to his knees. It’s only a crush. They’re not dating. But he’s perhaps a little more angry than he should be that Dave left him on his own with Frank, who was even more drunk. He was uncomfortable being the only sober one there, and Dave knew this. Hal told him, but he still went off with a man he’d met less than an hour before. He can’t hold it against him in the long run but right now he’s angry. 

Dave perks up a little when he picks up on it. His eyes open and he cuddles Hal a little tighter.

“Oh, damn. You... Hal, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I told you I’d stay with you. It’s my fault. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

He didn’t expect to hear that. He also didn’t expect Dave to bury a hand in his hair and pet him ever so gently. He accepts the affection gratefully and buys in to the cuddle fully.

“Thank you for apologising to me, Dave.”

“Next time I want to get drunk, tell me no, okay? That way I know I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t mind you getting a little drunk.” Hal admits. It was nice to see Dave so loose. “It’s just that you... went off. And left me with Frank. And you know that I... well. I.”

“You what?” Dave asks softly. 

“I like you more than I like him. I feel much safer with you.” Is what Hal decides to say, and he admits it shyly. It _is_ the truth. He does like Dave more than he likes Frank... in a romantic sense.

Dave giggles, and holds Hal closer still. His stuffed toy friend is squished comfortably between them. “I’ll make sure you have someone next time.”

“I would like that very much, Dave. That makes me very happy.”

“You want me to bring you home before your sister gets all worried about you? I do _not_ want to piss her off. She’ll bite my head off, I’m telling you.”

“She would not! It would make me sad, so she cannot hurt you.” Hal shakes his head. They are amazingly close, and it’s intimate, and conversation is coming so naturally. Hal can almost imagine that Dave is his, his _boyfriend_ , and it makes him so happy he has to look away. He catches the faint sound of Dave’s heartbeat and the side of his head is drawn to Dave’s chest like a magnet. “Maybe soon.”

“Alright. Whenever you need me to take you - but. Like. Before nine, I gotta get to work then - I’ll take you.”

“Okay.” 

The minutes pass as they hold each other. Hal listens idly to Dave’s slowing heartbeat as he strokes Hal’s hair. He read somewhere that the heartbeats of humans match one another when they are cuddling... he wishes he could do the same. The very idea of it is so very romantic, and he is so hopelessly in love. He knows that now.

He wants to tell Dave. Shake him and say ‘I’m in love with you!’ So loudly and passionately he wakes Frank up. He wants to be passionate with the man holding him. By _god_ does he love cuddling. Dave is so soft, and he has beautifully carved shoulders and long arms that make him a good hugger. He never even reserves himself, it’s like when he holds Hal his inhibitions drop right out of him. He cuddles and cuddles and it is so warm and so soft. 

“Hey, Hal.” Dave opens his blue eyes, and Hal feels himself sinking in to them. Like some cheesy, stupid romcom. “What time is it?”

“6:46 a.m.” Hal smiles, staring longingly at his crush. He cups Dave’s face in his hands and very nearly kisses him, but reserves himself, and draws back in to himself. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.

“Oh, man. I’m gonna have breakfast soon... you like coffee?”

“I will make your breakfast, Dave. You should get dressed. You can wear one of my sweaters!”

“Y’know what, I think my clothes are here. Mind if I pull away, Hal?”

“Oh, okay.” Hal pouts a little, and reluctantly lets go of Dave, who sits up and stretches out his back with a few satisfying pops. “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Hal nearly says ‘we should do it again’ but he stops himself as Dave stands to find his clothes. His chest is still bare and his reduction scars are just visible in the light. 

“When did you have your surgery?” Hal tilts his head.

“When I was twenty, so about eight years ago. My mom paid for it. The scars never went away, but I kinda like them if I’m honest. I know I shouldn’t but I do.” He whips his suit jacket away and exposes his fully bare chest as he searches around for his t-shirt. Hal whips his head away as soon as he realises what he’s looking at.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Um.” Dave thinks for a moment. “Uh. I really. I don’t eat breakfast normally.”

“Well, you should. How about pancakes?”

“Um. Yeah! Sure, sure.” Dave nods enthusiastically. Not because he wants to eat but because Hal clearly cares and that hits at his heartstrings. He hasn’t experienced that in a long time.

Hal stands up and saunters over to the kitchen. ‘Saunter’ night not be the right word but he certainly makes an attempt to walk with a little glamour. He starts searching for ingredients and brewing coffee all at once. He seems happy to be so entertained with things to do but Dave can’t help but feel bad about asking so much of him. 

Still, he is stood almost naked in Frank’s living room. There are things to be done, like attempting to find his change of clothes. Frank obviously brought it home, but there’s the problem of finding the bag and not letting anyone see him naked and still covered in a little red greasepaint from the night before. He can’t see himself in the mirror from this angle, but if he could he would be sure it would be a simultaneously sorry and hilarious spectacle.

He manages to locate the changes of clothes and he searches frantically for his own, to find out he has forgotten his shirt. Either that, or Frank left it at the venue - he doesn’t have the time to figure that out, not right this second. So he leaves it and changes the rest of his clothes. Pretends he’s fine with being shirtless in his friend’s living room. It’s a little liberating to have himself so on display again.

He scrambles to the mirror and he stares at himself, tracing over his muscles and inspecting the way they look. He’s quite happy with the way he looks. He shakes his hips a little. Frank walks in to see his friend engaged in a mindless display of vanity. Dave doesn’t notice right away but when he does he jerks up and jumps away from Frank, who is stood just behind him. Even more naked than Dave.

Frank looks at him blankly for a few moments before talking. Dave realises he didn’t quite register what he’d been doing, he’d been too busy staring in to space. 

“When’d you come home?” Frank’s voice is a little hoarse. Dave chalks it down to the singing from the night before. 

“A while ago.” 

“How was it?”

“I don’t remember. I don’t even know if I got any.”

“Huh. Hal was pretty mad.”

“I know. But we’re over it now, it’s good.” Dave shrugs and stretches his hips out. Admittedly, Frank is a lot bigger in the shoulders and chest than Dave, and it’s searingly obvious to him. Perhaps even a little scary to see someone so hench just standing in front of him, baring his chest like it’s nobody’s business. Dave feels like a little bitch in comparison.

“Have I got something on me?”

Dave didn’t realise he’s been staring so intently. He looks away.

“No, you are just massive and there’s a lot to look at.” Dave admits, folding his arms across his chest. He wants to cover himself up all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” Frank nods and stares him down in response. He goes silent and he listens out for a few moments. “Uh. Who’s in the kitchen?”

“Hal is making me some pancakes.”

“Is he making me any?” Frank tilts his head in curiosity a little. Grogginess is still plain on his face.

“I. I don’t know. He might be.”

“I am not!” Hal calls from the kitchen. “It is my right as an android to refuse any requests I deem unnecessary! But I’ll leave you the batter. It is enough for another stack.”

Frank chuckles. “Do you want a shirt, Dave? There wasn’t one in the bag.”

“Did you leave it there?”

“No. You want a big hoodie? I got a good one, just a bit small.”

“Are you calling me small?” Dave looks up and glares jokingly. Frank thankfully sees the humour.

“Yes. You are a noodle.”

“Fine.” Dave huffs and Frank leaves to find the hoodie. Dave waits alone for him.


	5. Sal Chandra

Sal has to drag her brother home. She has always been the bearer of bad news, the bad guy, especially when their father isn’t there. Hal just wants to have fun. Hal just wants to have his little crush on Dave Bowman and cuddle and sing songs. 

He can’t. 

Sal already broke the rules by letting him talk to humans in a real setting. He could’ve gotten hurt bad. She can entirely anticipate what their dad will tell her and she’s pissed about it.

“Look. Hal. You’re taking it too far.” She explains, pulling him aside as they stand in a train car. Androids are more than capable of standing up, even if Hal is carrying many bags. “I know you’re like. Horny for that dreamy singer or whatever but you need to stop, Dad’s gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Dad isn’t here. Also, I am not horny for him.”

“Dad’s said he’s coming home soon. In like a week. To check in on us. And if he does and you come home smelling like the dreamboat he’s gonna have some bones to pick.”

“Well. I don’t care! He’ll understand I fell in love.” Hal folds his arms, pouts, wrinkles his nose and looks away. This works on Dave, but not his sister.

“Hal. Dad is a massive skeptic. He will not understand. He won’t even listen to reason. If he finds out you even held hands with the dreamboat he’ll go in to conniptions.”

“We never held hands. And his name is Dave, not ‘the Dreamboat!’” Hal protests. Sal takes a steady grip of his hand, to keep him from running off in anger.

She pulls his hand to her nose and sniffs deeply. “You smell just like him. What have you been doing with him?”

“We cuddled.” Hal admits. He pivots his body away from her but keeps his feet where they are. “He didn’t kiss me or anything, he just came in drunk and he held me, and it was very nice. Oh, Sal, I love being held. It’s wonderful!”

“I know. I’ve been breaking the rules too, which is why we need a fresh start. The both of us. I won’t tell if you don’t, and we both quit it.”

“No, Sal. I’ve fallen in love, and I won’t let you or dad ruin it.”

“You’re not in love with him. He doesn’t even know you like him, are you just gonna pine forever?”

“No. I am going to tell him very soon.” He looks away and turns his nose up at her. Sal notices a strange looking man eyeing him and pulls her brother over the other side, where he’s just out of his line of sight. Not having noticed someone staring, Hal switches his attention to the window, and the slowing train.

When it stops completely she guides him out. He narrowly avoids the gap between train car and platform. Hal’s not clumsy by any means of the imagination (well, his movements can be a little goofy) but sometimes he will take an exorbitantly long time completing simple tasks. He gets distracted by things easily. 

The experts say that this is typical of home-rigged, free-range-androids. Ones raised like children instead of robots intended to carry out duties. They can become ditsy and jumpy for no apparent reason. Sal thinks this isn’t true, that it only applies to a minority like Hal. There isn’t anything wrong with him, he’s just scatterbrained. Always has been. It could be chalked down to anything. An irregularity in the toolkit their father built, the original personality model he built himself on randomly leaning towards a more disorganised character. But he’s always just been Hal.

He walks on the inside of the sidewalk, sided by a hedge, and occasionally stops to look at a bird or bug. When the hedge ends and the suburb begins, Hal becomes a little anxious and he hides behind her. He never likes coming face to face with the mothers that prowl the streets with pushchairs in their grasps. They look at him and he hates it. He distracts himself by staring dead at the ground and looking for discrepancies.

“I’m having a party tonight. Thought you should know.” Sal tugs on his arm when he is particularly distracted by a caterpillar crossing the concrete panels of the ground. He looks up instantly, brows furrowed.

“I’m not allowed to cuddle with Dave but you can throw a party? That is unfair.” He starts walking, recognising he is near the house. Sal starts worrying that her brother might throw a temper tantrum.

“I’m in charge when dad is gone.” 

“I am much more responsible than you are, it seems. I would never have a party.”

“If dad thought you should be in charge, he would have put you in charge.” Sal shrugs, opening the door for him. He shuffles in dejectedly. He really does look like a little kid.

“Well, if you are throwing a party, I am going to go over Dave’s.”

“And you’re gonna smooch him?” She teases, throwing his bag on the floor. “You’re going to make out with him?” She observes his angered blush as he storms away to his room, and she laughs momentarily before catching his attention. “But fine. I don’t want you there anyway. You’ll get traumatised or something.”

“I wouldn’t want you with me or Dave anyway.” His arms uncross and his scowl intensifies. She can’t help but laugh at the fact that Hal is trying to look scary but in reality he’s adorable. He disappears in to his room and slams the door behind him. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped making fun of me!” 

It takes Sal a while to stop laughing at the image of his little wrinkled nose as he heckled her.

••

Sal is adorning herself with bangles, cuffs and safety pins when she hears Hal go out. She looks out the window of her room to see he is happily bundled up in a warm coat as he travels down the street. He wears his bunny ear backpack proudly and keeps his head up high. The confidence he has is amazing. He hasn’t bothered to say goodbye before he heads out, and in fact he’s spent the whole day in his room sulking after Sal had poked fun at him. She’s made a mental note not to make fun of his crush on Dave. It must mean a lot for him to leave the house this much.

She does wish, a little, that Hal was staying, because their oldest sibling is supposedly cropping up. Xion, formerly Tal. They changed their name a few years ago after being given a government discharge. For dissenting. They had always kept the two younger of the three Chandra kids in line. She hasn’t seen them in a long time. They fell out with dad and left after their discharge. Now she can throw houseparties.

They’re actually one of the first to show up. When the party is getting going, they step inside the house. Their features are a distinctive mix of masculine and feminine, somewhere between their dad and Sal. Their hair is much longer than Hal or Sal’s and they cover most of their body in a long coat. They look, for the most part, happy to see her as they walk towards her.

“You got goth.” They poke at her chest. An exposed wire catches on the netting of her mesh kaftan. “Like. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You are goth.”

“Xion.” She nods. Desperate to be cool in front of them, but really she just wants to hug them. 

“Where’s Hal?”

“With his boyfriend.” She moans, pulling them to one side. She leans back against the wall. Her eyes drift to the exposed wires on their finger. “You need fixing? Dad’s home next week, he’ll help you out.”

“Hang on - Hal has a boyfriend?” Their face takes on a mix of concern and anger. Hal was always the baby of the three of them. Hell, they could be blamed for making him so childish.

“Not really. He has a massive crush on this guy and they hang out, like, a lot. He seems good, not really threatening. His name is Dave, he’s in a band. They’re both in the band, really, that’s how they met.”

“Who is this guy?” Their voice picks up. 

“Okay. Uh. He’s a massive nerd who works in a music store and can play the piano surprisingly well. He seems pretty sweet, it’s the other guy in the band I don’t trust. Like. This guy seems genuinely good, I promise. It’s just that obviously I wanna protect Hal, like you do.”

“Fine.” They grumble reluctantly. “And what does dad think of this?”

Sal holds back a guilty grimace. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“Oh my fucking god. It’s not gonna kill him, sure, but he’s gonna kill you when he finds out.”

“ _If_ he finds out.” 

“Trust me, dad will find out. Hal is his precious little boy, and he’s a goddamn babbler at that. Either dad presses the truth out of you, or he teases it out of Hal when he doesn’t get it.”

“Dad couldn’t get it out of Hal even if he wanted to.”

Xion stares and purses their lips. They raise their eyebrows and just lend her a look of sympathy instead. “I’m not sticking around to watch that go down.”

“But. You are staying for a bit, right? I mean, Hal’s out the house tonight, you can have his room. He would be so happy to see you, if you stayed. He hasn’t seen you in a long time, he’s really missed you.”

“Yeah, and what then? When I have to go again. It’ll break his heart.”

“He. He’ll be fine. He really will. The same thing happened last time. He got sad for a bit and he got over it.”

“Sal. I can’t stay. I got things to do, business to attend to. I was hoping to catch both of you tonight.”

“And not dad?”

“No. Dad hasn’t even apologised to me.”

“He would if he saw you.”

“Look, I’ll. When the party’s over, take me to see Hal and his friend. And I will give him a hug and discuss some boundaries with whatever his name is.”

“I’ve been calling him dreamboat. And they’re not dating, by the way. I just say he is because it annoys Hal.” She thinks for a moment. “But actually, I want you to leave them alone. He hasn’t tried anything I don’t like, he seems to really respect who Hal is, and I appreciate that.”

“You can’t trust humans.”

“I trust dad. Dad is a good person, and you know why that is? Because he takes the time to deal with Hal, who needs time in order to be understood properly. Dreamboat’s doing the exact same thing, even if there’s nothing where his brain should be.”

“Yeah? And what if he’s not? What if you’ve misread the whole situation and he’s out there, with this fuckin’ guy, scared out his little mind because he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be and he knows it?”

“Xion, I think you’re forgetting you left me on my own with Hal. Dad wasn’t even there when you took off. I am the person that looks after him. When dad’s not here I care for him, I give him what he needs, and I know more than anyone who’s gonna love him just like I do.” She folds her arms over her chest. She has always loved putting people in their place and now is no exception. “You left, Xion. You left when Hal barely had a grasp on his emotions. He knows how to deal with them now, and we both know who we can trust. Sure he’s a little naive at times but he is doing so well and if he wants to kiss a guy that looks like he got thrown out a boy band then I’m gonna let him!”

She walks off then and there, and goes to enjoy the rest of the party.

••

And yet she still takes Xion to Dave’s apartment. She’s half hoping for them to be asleep by now - nearly 2am - but the light is still on under the door. She peers through the lock and focuses to see them sat together on Dave’s couch, illuminated by the TV. Hal’s cheek is laid on Dave’s shoulder comfortably, and he’s so content his eyes are dropping shut. He’s worlds happier than the sulky little bastard that hid in his room and occasionally moped around the house yesterday. She doesn’t want to disturb him but she knocks on the door.

Hal moves from Dave’s shoulder, and he is the one that answers the door in his pyjamas. He paws at his eye and yawns. “Sal?”

“Hey, Dave. Just wanted to check in on Hal, he didn’t answer his phone... and this is our. Older sibling, Xion. They’re in town but, going soon and they just wanted to see him before they left.”

“Oh, go ahead.” Dave blinks after a few moments and moves out the way to let them in. Hal pretends not to notice Sal, but he can’t be mad at Xion, who he lunges at. Right in to a hug. 

Sal pulls Dave to one side. “Dave, we need to talk.”

“Why? Did I do something?”

“No, uh. I just need to. Our dad is probably coming home in a week and we might need to disappear. He is very paranoid about either of us getting hurt. Dave, I honest to fuckin’ god don’t know what to do.”

“Oh.” He says quietly. He’s certainly extremely tired. “Does that mean I can’t see Hal?”

“That’s what concerns you? Not the band?”

“I like Hal.” He lightly sways on his feet. “Maybe you should just tell your dad how it is, whether he likes it or not that’s just what you’re gonna do.”

“But it’s just Hal.”

“Then maybe you can join the band.” Dave stifles another yawn. “I bet Frank would like that. And that way you can say you’re looking after Hal.”

“It could work. Maybe. Fuckin’ maybe. I mean I was thinking about joining anyway, if I’m honest. Because you need a drummer and I am a drummer.”

“Okay.” Dave holds out his hand to shake her’s. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “Welcome to Discovery One.”

“Don’t you need Frank’s permission?” She shakes it nonetheless. It feels like a blood oath.

“No. You’re an android, you can drum.” He slurs. It’s almost as if he’s drunk.

“That’s a stereotype.”

“Yeah but it’s true for you, Hal said so, and Hal doesn’t lie.”

That makes sense, she has to give it to him. 

“I think you should go to bed.” She holds him at arm’s length and walks him over to the bedroom. He stumbles alongside her, and as they walk through the door he nearly falls.

Hal is on the couch, hugging Xion. He hasn’t let go of them since seeing them and at this point it would be painful to. It isn’t a sad reunion even though he knows they’ll leave soon, so he hugs while he still can. If he knows he spent all the time he could with his sibling he won’t feel as bad.

“So you like that absolute ditz in the Star Wars pyjamas?”

“Yes. His name is Dave. He is very nice to me, you don’t need to worry. He gives me hugs when I need them and he watches my favourite things with me even though we’ve already seen them a lot. He makes me happy.”

“Okay. Well if he’s ever a dick to you, let me know. And don’t tell dad, he’ll kill Sal and then your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Hal protests.

“But you want him to be.”

Hal nods and lets them cuddle him properly, curling in to the bowl they make between their chest and bent legs. They are warm, and their worn skin is soft, and the ends of their frizzy hair tickle his cheek as he wraps his arms around their neck. They kiss his head and stroke behind his neck, and Hal closes his eyes. He listens to their chest to hear the soft, constant whirring of mechanics, the thud of their hydraulics, the beeps and chirps of their central motor processors. It combines in to a certain deep music that androids celebrate. It’s really the android equivalent of a heartbeat. Hal finds immense comfort in both these sounds, having grown up with his father and his siblings.

Sal slips in the side, and she doesn’t get the premium seat Hal does but she gets an arm wrapped around her.

“How is dad treating you, Hal?”

“I have not seen him in three months.” Hal grumbles. “I’m thinking of just telling him how it is... I love Dave very much and I do not want to lose him.”

“He won’t like that, Hal.”

“I do not care. Sal gets to wear goth clothes, I would like a boyfriend. It is not too much to ask.”

“You must really like him.” Xion chirps, and they look over through the wide open door to watch Dave as he tries to sleep. They can’t see why Hal is so attracted to him - he’s dribbling, and rubbing his eyes so hard they’re red.

“Y’know, wearing goth clothes and getting a boyfriend are on two completely different levels, Hal.” Sal points out, making herself more comfortable in Xion’s grasp. 

“Yes, they are, but it signifies a large change in maturity and personality and I am sure dad will think I am ready.” Hal folds his arms, and stands up. “I am going to go to bed now.”

“You’re sleeping with him?” Sal looks up. Xion seems unfazed. “The party’s over. You can come home.”

“Well, I am still mad at you and I want to make him breakfast. You two can go, I am doing what I would like to in regards to Dave. I am sorry if that makes you unhappy, but I am my own person.”

Sal joins him in the empty space of the living room, and hugs him. “If you need any help you can ask us. You text me the minute he tries anything nasty with you and I will be there.”

“If I thought Dave would hurt me, I would not go near him.”

Xion stands and goes to leave. They press a kiss on Hal’s head as they pass him. “Goodbye, Hal. I’ll come visit you soon. I hope it goes well for you.”

“Goodbye, Xion. Bye, Sal.”

Sal takes this as her cue to leave with Xion, though they watch through the door as Hal makes his way through his things and changes in to his own pyjamas. He crawls in with Dave and is consumed by the blanket and a pair of arms nearly instantly. The worst part is she knows he’s happy there, and there is no reason to object to it - but Hal is still her little brother and she has had the urge to protect him since they were first left alone together. Right now is the end of a strange chain of events.

“What do you think?” She asks Xion, who has been standing awkwardly (and patiently) in the dark hallway. “About. Dave, and Hal being in a relationship.”

“Well, I didn’t get to talk to him, but from what I saw and what Hal said, he’s good.” They whisper quietly. “Hal isn’t the best with. Dealing with people but he’s... he’s a lot older now. I think we just need to stand back, if this is a mistake then we have to let him make it. If not, good for him. All I know is he’s not in any danger.”

“Say it.”

“You were right.” They sigh. “If he wants to kiss a guy that looks like he got kicked out of a boy band, we’re gonna let him.”

“So... what do I tell dad?” They start slowly walking down the corridor together.

“I think you should let Hal explain it, really. And give him time, too, I think he’s gonna wait until they’re actually dating to. Y’know. Tell him.”

“You think Dave likes him back?”

“I saw as well as you did that they were holding each other. I think they both like each other and they’re both afraid to say anything in fear the other doesn’t like them. Classic, really.”

Sal nods as they begin their descent. “Where are you going now?”

“Um... back to New York, I think. Keep an eye on Hal, of course, give dad my number because I want to talk to him about repairs, and, y’know, apologise, and keep throwing wicked parties.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Maybe. But I think I might leave the country after dad fixes me. If he wants to, of course.”

“Which he will. Where do you wanna go?”

“France. I have always wanted to go to France... maybe you and dad and Hal could come visit sometime if everything goes to plan.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” She nods, and tries to pretend she’s not heartbroken by the prospect of them leaving. She jumps down the ladder and on to the street with a thump, cushioned by dark, wet moss. “I do not like the idea of the French, but I totally wanna fuck with a mime.”

They jump down and join her. “That’s understandable. I’m gonna miss you, Sal. I don’t really wanna go but I still got some enemies here.”

“Yeah, I. I get it, completely.” She nods. They hug her tight for a few moments before letting go. “This is goodbye?”

“Yeah. Get yourself home safe, okay?”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FORBIDDEN CHANDRA BABY FORBIDDEN CHANDRA BABY... WE WILL SEE THEM AGAIN I LOVE THEM HOLY SHIT


	6. It Takes Two To Hide A Body

“Okay. Fuckin’, Hal, I love the way you’re singing this and I love the song but I just don’t think it works.”

“Oh.” Hal nods, and blinks blankly. This is the fourth time Frank has said this to him since he started writing for the new album, just after finishing the last. There doesn’t seem to be all that much demand for a new album, but one of their songs has reached a thousand hits online so Frank is running with all the encouragement he can get.

“Come on, Frank. He sounds great. This is the best song he’s written yet.”

“Yeah, but people like Wastes of Jupiter because it’s so dark and gothic. These are practically love songs, Hal.”

“I can sing them darker, if you’d like.”

“No, Hal, I think you should write another song.”

“Why don’t we just release Wastes of Jupiter again?” Hal throws his fluffy pen on the floor and storms towards the balcony. He shuts the sliding doors behind him and sits out in the open air, pulling at his hair in frustration.

“Dick move, Frank.” Dave folds his arms and glares. 

“I didn’t expect him to do that.”

“Well, I did. He’s been pouring his heart out in to this new album. You do realise that bands are supposed to change the way they sound, right? Like an evolution. If we just keep releasing songs that sound like our first album we are going to fade in to obscurity.”

“But people really liked our first album.”

“I’m gonna ask you to look at your guitarist a moment.” Dave points out the sliding glass doors to the sorry sight of Hal. “I don’t give a damn what everyone else wants, this is _our_ band. If they wanna listen to Wastes, then they can listen to Wastes. To be honest I don’t wanna spend my time writing the same album over and over again.”

“Okay. Let’s take a break.” Frank sighs. “I’m gonna look Hal’s songs over again.”

“Fine.” Dave rests his head in his hands for a moment and then joins Hal on the balcony. He sticks his legs through the slats of the fence and leans against it. “Hey, Hal.”

Hal chirps to acknowledge him, and copies shoving his legs through the gaps in the metal fence. He runs his fingers over the black points, snaking like ivy. He swings his legs idly and then lets out a sudden shriek, piercing Dave’s ears.

“Fuckin’ hell, Hal, what’s the matter?”

“I am trying my very best and Frank doesn’t like my songs. I don’t understand why.” There’s a very clear streak of upset in his voice. It almost sounds as if he is about to cry. Dave frees his legs and goes to sit behind him, to comfort him properly. Hal ends up practically sat in his lap, legs spread around him, back propping him up. He feels so content.

“You’re doing really well. I really like your songs and so does Sal.”

“You do?”

“I do. I love the way you sing them, and how you put your whole heart in to them when you do. It’s haunting.”

Hal can’t help but smile at the compliment. He likes to think he’s perfect in every way. Being told he is not, even if not directly, ruffles his feathers to the point of fury. But Dave holds him so tenderly it’s easy to push away all the anger and frustration, at least for a moment. And it’s barely even holding, but just a gentle grip of his arms. As Dave’s hands snake around Hal’s chest he’s sure he feels himself melting again.

He pulls his legs from the fence and crosses them neatly. Dave waits patiently for him to feel better. No rushing or bugging him to go inside again. Two people sat out on a balcony and cuddling, watching idly as the clouds pass by. Hal wants it to stay this way forever, just him and Dave, bit he feels the humidity pick up and watches longingly as the clouds pool above them. The sky opens, meagre offerings of spit at first, but then hammers down on them. The tips of the concrete balcony are soaked in mere seconds. 

Hal and Dave head inside, and are enveloped by the warm honey-coloured light. They sit on the couch together, and Hal’s arm wraps around Dave’s shoulder so absentmindedly neither of them have any choice but to let it be. The room is silent, they are so very alone there... and their fingers interlace, their faces grow so close, and Hal feels the air between them growing warmer. The progression of it all is natural yet gradual, yet Hal feels his heart growing so weary in his chest. He wants to swoop in, he wants to hold, and to love, and to feel Dave’s lips against his own. It’s tantalising.

Their lips finally meet, and Hal closes his eyes as he feels every wafer-thin circuit board in his body explode with passion and joy. Dave is so soft, yet steady against him, holding him up as Hal nearly folds over in excitement. Three months of pining and yearning has come to this and it is so much better than he could have ever imagined. The heat of passion cables through his body and leaves him obsessed with Dave’s touch. He puts one hand on Dave’s thigh and runs along it with one finger, up to his hip, and Dave puts one of his hands in Hal’s hair, and the other on his waist.

It’s magical. Encompassed by the sound of the rain, sat under the watchful eyes of the warm ceiling light, the love runs wild through Hal’s mind. 

“Hal? Dave? Oh my fuckin’ god.”

Frank’s voice in the room is tantamount to heartbreak, as Dave pulls away from him suddenly and moves his hands and nearly _shakes them off_. They coil around the fabric of the couch, leave dents when he pries them away.

Hal stands and leaves the house. He leaves his pen, his bag, his notebook, and he goes. Straight past Frank, without even regarding him. That was his _first kiss._ It was supposed to be perfect, and it was so very perfect until Frank came in. He wants to cry. Dave runs after him, desperate to catch up and stop him from leaving.

“Hal!” He pants as he slides across the lino of the landing. Still embarrassingly in his socks, but willing to brave the rain in them for Hal. “Please, Hal, come back. We’ll go over my place and write a song together.” He ignores the kiss, or the fact that it ever happened. Momentarily, at least. He knows that Hal needs to be comforted in the moment, but it’s not like he can push it away.

Hal chirps quietly in response, and gives a curt nod.

••

It is nice and quiet in Dave’s apartment, save for the rain hitting on the windows outside. Hal scribbles away in his notebook, sat in Dave’s lap. They’re not dating. They haven’t talked about kissing since it happened: but there seems to be an unlocked level of physical intimacy between them, even if the more blunt, emotional part of it hasn’t really opened itself up yet. 

“Oh, I like that line.” Dave is reading from behind, and he points out a glitzy line he likes. It’s a clever little motif, the type Hal is well known for. ‘ _You’re a false sexual idol_.’ it reads. Dave finds himself relating with it more than he should. “What’s the tune?”

Hal hums it out for him, and Dave sings it. Hal corrects his tone to his vision. This is how they progress with the song, until they are happy and Dave looks exhausted. Hal hasn’t really paid much attention to it, but the bright white sky has turned to a soft, deep blue. The rain carries on.

“Dave?” Hal turns himself around so he’s facing his crush. Dave opens his eyes. Their bodies are close again but it doesn’t feel as inherently romantic as it once was. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“What is there to say? We kissed. Did you like it?”

“Well, yes. I liked it very much, Dave.” Hal buries the side of his head in to Dave’s collarbone. He’s comforted by Dave’s arms as they swallow him. He feels safe. He knows Dave will listen to him. “But... but there is a lot more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“There doesn’t have to be if you’re not ready. I don’t mind sweeping it under the rug for now.”

Hal nods. The silence falls between them, but they still remain in their comfortable cuddle, arms tighter than ever. 

“That was my first kiss.” Hal says after a little while. “Can I be angry at Frank? He ruined it.”

“Yeah, I think you can. But a first kiss doesn’t really matter in the long term, and I really don’t think he meant to... he seemed kinda surprised if I’m honest.”

“Do you remember yours?”

“No. But I know it wasn’t very glamorous, and it wasn’t romantic at all, and I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“I don’t want that to happen here.”

“Okay.” He is wonderfully understanding and kind.

Silence again, but even warmer and softer, a mutual rest between them calms everything in the darkening room. They are left alone with nought but the feeble dripping of water, the sky beginning to close it’s burst gates. Hal runs a finger across Dave’s cheekbone, and starts to drown himself in the fading scent Dave religiously covers himself with. 

It is romantic, but not the whirlwind romance Hal expected. This is the romance of people that need nothing else. A purer type of love. Dave certainly looks serene where he is, and he holds Hal with soft arms that turn firm if he falls the tiniest bit. 

“Who was she?” Hal murmurs through closed eyes. 

“Her name was Betty, she was my brother’s girlfriend before he died. Two years after he did we. Started having sex, and that’s all it ever really was. Kissing sometimes. Cuddling other times, but really it was just. Flesh on flesh.” Dave throws this in to the room slowly, and with reverence, even though Hal gets the impression Dave doesn’t want it to matter all too much. “She never loved me. I thought she did.”

“That means a lot to you.”

“Yeah, she did... but I couldn’t see that we weren’t meant for each other. I was just happy to have found some comfort. My mom wouldn’t look at me after my brother died and I needed Betty, or someone, to just look at me and tell me everything was gonna be fine.”

“You weren’t treated well by your mother at all. Or Betty for that matter. You did not deserve that, you deserve much more.” Hal pets his head. “You deserve someone that loves you.” He nearly adds ‘like I do,’ but it’s just too much. He doesn’t want Dave to push him away. 

“I think you’re right.” Dave smiles. “What about you? Anything on your mind?”

Hal doesn’t know what to say, and he hesitates. Dave is, as always, ever so patient with him.

“Dave, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh!” Dave exclaims. “Where were you thinking?”

“The aquarium. We could go there!” He wants to make it seem like it’s an impromptu decision - it isn’t. The aquarium is one of his favourite places.

“Oh, the aquarium! I haven’t been in years. I totally wanna go with you.”

“As a date?”

“Yes, as a date! You wanna go now or later? There’s a special exhibit on and I think it’s open until. Really, really late.”

“Yes!” 

••

Dave hasn’t been to this aquarium since he first moved here. He was 23, tired from moving his life halfway across the country, and moped through the exhibits alone. It’s changed a lot since then, even if it’s only been five years.

The aquarium, this late, is practically empty. Most of the kids that would be here in the day are winding down at home. It’s slightly eerie, perhaps a little liminal in tone. The corridors, with walls filled with schools upon schools of fish, feel endless. The floor is a dirty blue, trampled with a day’s worth of traffic. 

Hal, on the other hand, knows his way around like it’s nobody business. They certainly take their time around the various exhibits. Hal stops constantly to stare at the fish and tell Dave everything he knows about them. He points out the most tiny of details, strange birth defects he spots, strange colourings, particularly beautiful fins. When he can, he presses his face up against the glass just to get a better look at their various patterns and colours. He is enthralled by it all, even the projection of the water to the ceiling which he watches intently between exhibits.

Cynically, Dave expected this to be a little boring. He loves fish, of course, and marine life, but after spending the formative years of his life obsessed with it he’d grown a little tired. Now he stands in the middle of a deserted blue walkway, holding Hal’s soft hand, and helplessly smiles like an idiot with a blush on his face. In a sudden switch of roles he is the one melting as Hal enthuses.

He loses his composure when it comes to the octopus exhibit. A huge, wall-to-wall tank showcases strange and beautiful creatures, swimming with ethereal cadence through the rippling blue waters, propelling themselves so gracefully through the water with minuscule flicks of their tentacles. Hal has named one, a particularly reclusive coconut octopus who likes to sit under the ledge of a rock all day. Every time Hal comes (which is more often than he would like to admit), it will be there. Hal has named it Shelly.

“Because he likes to keep to him-shell-f!” Hal flaps his hands excitedly while he shows Shelly to Dave. 

Dave’s heart caves in on itself just as he realises how much he loves Hal. It’s platonic as of yet - of course it is - but he knows how quickly that’ll dissolve in to something more. Hal is sweet, kind, thoughtful, and adorable. He has an innocence to him, one that makes him... indescribably wonderful in every way. 

Dave stands and blushes, and he can feel himself falling for Hal... it feels so _perfect_ , it feels like it’s meant to be. It’s turned in to the most powerful infatuation he’s ever experienced. He flings himself at Hal, to hug him and ruffle his hair and watch as his lips curl upwards in to a smile and his dimples appear under his mouth.

“Oh, Hal. You’re just... you’re. I don’t have words for you.”

“You think it’s silly, don’t you?”

“No! I don’t, I think it’s! I think it’s great, Hal. It’s really funny, and it’s so sweet, that you know this little guy by name and you come to see him every time you come here, that’s just. Oh, it’s...” He trails away, butterflies swirling in his chest rampantly. “I’m really not good at this whole. Dating thing, I’m sorry. I never know what to say.”

“I appreciate your company, I think that is enough. Are you having a good time?”

“Yes! Yes, I am, I love it here, with you and all the, the fish. It’s... it’s bitchin.’ You’re bitchin,’ Hal.”

“Oh! I like that.” Hal smiles again, and he rocks from side to side. “I do not like to swear myself, but I think that is very endearing.”

They hold hands and they watch the water for a while. The meaning of serenity comes to them, as the octopus trail past in shimmering swirls of shining, leathery skin. 

“So. I know you can’t eat but I know a place that does android-friendly snacks. Like, you can chew on it and stuff. You wanna go?”

“Yes!”

••

“So.” Dave takes a long sip of his milkshake. “Okay. Typical date stuff - you tell me something I don’t know about you, I tell you something you don’t know about me.”

Hal chews on his fake ice cream. It’s more of a flavoured silicone charm designed to provide oral stimulation, but he really seems to be enjoying it.

“Okay. I was going to be a government bot, and I’m technically a therapy bot.”

“Elaborate?”

“Well, when androids get registered they make us do a personality test. I scored very high in the subservience sector. They put me through to the second round of testing but found I was too immature and couldn’t perform well under sudden pressure. Not up to government bot standards, at the very least. And then there was dad, too, they’d already taken Xion and he didn’t want them to take another, we were like his children. So he said they couldn’t have me even if they wanted me, and registered me for emotional support.”

“Huh.” Dave nods, and he takes another long sip. “I used to keep frogs.”

“Oh, I love frogs!”

“Yeah. I used to keep ‘em in a tank, in my bedroom. This was back when I lived in Florida, if they ever got jumpy I’d put them in the pool to calm them down.”

Hal chews for a moment before talking again. “I used to get really really angry and dad had to take me to the aquarium to help me calm down.”

“Aw, that’s a cute one. Okay. I always wanted to be an astronaut, but I dropped out university when I was beginning training.”

“Did you ever go back?”

“I work in a music store, Hal.”

"Oh." Hal blinks and chews a little. "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of. I can't stay in the city center for long, not without Sal to look after me. Plus, you're in a rock band now."

"Mm. Is it. Hard for you to perform? I know you're not the best with people."

"Not as long as I am with you."

It sounds so unbelievably cheesy, and yet it is so entirely real. Dave snorts on the outside but on the inside he's touched. Hal never really says anything like that. Everything he says always does have a hint of clinicality, and originality, too. Saying something so mindlessly cliche is out of the blue and uncharacteristic, of course, but simultaneously it means so very much.

Dave decides to steer the conversation away from his past before it gets too late and Hal learns something unsavoury about him. Doing it makes him feel a little better about it - even though he's sure Hal has cottoned on to something - he gets to pretend it never happened, and it's liberating. Denial is not something he should relish in but right now is the time to big himself up. To make himself seem better than he really is, and he can slowly lay the heavier details on when he is ready. Or maybe not when he is ready to, but when he knows Hal will not leave him for saying them, for throwing them carelessly in to the room. When he knows there will be a response like that which his closer friends and confidantes have given him, he will speak. Because he cannot handle to be criticised. And he's sure even now that Hal wouldn't criticise him, (at least not verbally), but there's another layer. Hal is innocent and he doesn't need to know he has kissed a murderer.

They stay and talk for a long time. Hal gets a censored slice of Dave's life, and Hal cuts a few unnecessary details from his own. Out of a mild embarrassment over his immaturity, Hal chooses not to mention the comfort he finds in little figures and stuffed animals. He knows Dave knows he has them but chooses to downplay their importance to him. There are obvious gaps in the truth that hang around them, but there is a mutual respect, and understanding, for these discrepancies. 

When they leave, the sky is a dusty black, and the air is wet around them. They do not hold hands, but they walk closely, arms touching. At home, there is not much else to do other than go to bed, and it's an apt decision. Dave is certainly exhausted and Hal doesn't mind the notion of a warm, tight hug. He loans a pair of pyjamas from Dave and they lay on the tiny single bed. Undoubtedly close, and extremely intimate in meaning now Hal's feelings have become known.

"Okay. How do you want to do this?" Dave whispers calmly. Normally they would hold one another haphazardly but now it is so much different. Dave has an overwhelming urge to be tender and soft with him, to comfort, more than he already does. "Have you... have you ever spooned? Do you want to spoon?"

"I have never spooned, but I don't want to suffocate you in my hair.”

Dave nods slowly. "You want me to cuddle you, or the other way around?"

"Cuddle me, please." Hal's voice suddenly becomes small. The urge to protect Hal rams in to Dave.

"Of course." 

Dave ropes Hal towards him gently, until their bodies are pressed up against one another. Their legs interlink, and Hal hooks his head around Dave’s shoulder. It happens so slowly that it becomes tender and loving, as their skin touches and their hair tickles one another’s faces. In a gentle proclamation of love (or care, at the very least) Dave runs his hands through Hal’s hair, partially rubbing his head and partially twirling it across his hands.

He can’t get over the way Hal looks in his arms. His eye is doe-like, his lips curl just downwards in to a slight pout. He is so vulnerable there, and it is so unusual of him to open himself to these emotions. Worse yet he knows just how easily it could be exploited. They have always found intimacy in one another, they have always shared their vulnerabilities, but never like this. Love has never been involved before and it makes things so much different. 

“Is this good?”

“Yes.” Hal chirps. 

“I’m sorry about how small my bed is. I should probably get a. A double bed, you’ll get too hot to cuddle when it’s summer.”

“The ceiling fan and air conditioning will be our friends.”

Dave laughs and buries his nose in to Hal’s hair. He can tell why Hal was so concerned about suffocation, but he doesn’t pull away. He likes the smell of it, and how softly it sits against his nose. He likes how soft Hal’s entire body is. He’s warm, and his skin is made of squishy, powdery silicone. It’s intricately painted, too, with tiny birthmarks and freckles, the cutest of which are on his face and his adorable little nose. He is so beautifully crafted; so much care and love must have gone in to his creation. Dave loves all of it.

“Is that true? Is summer too hot to cuddle?”

“A lot of the time. That’s how it was with my first boyfriend. I used to wake up covered in sweat when we cuddled because it was just too hot.”

“How old were you? When you had your first boyfriend.”

“18. I was still dating Betty at the time, it was a revenge sort of thing during the last few weeks but we dated for a few months after. She cheated on me with him so I kissed him a bunch, until he wanted to date me. Broke it off when I started college because I didn’t want to get cheated on again.”

“So you cheated on each other with the same man?”

“Yeah, but I got the last laugh. He was good to me, as well. Gentle, and he listened to me.”

“I will listen to you.” Hal puts one of his hands in Dave’s hair, and feels through the soft chestnut locks. From photos he’s seen, it used to be very short, but now it’s a little longer and it’s developed a slight curl to it. They bounce in his hands as he rubs at them, and he finds himself comforted by the action.

“I’ll always listen to you too.” There are a few other things that Dave doesn’t quite know how to work in to the sentence. ‘ _I know you’re new to this, and that’s okay.’ ’I’ll keep you safe, I promise.’ ‘I’m falling in love with you.’_ “Anything else you wanna talk about before we sleep? I’m gettin’ pretty tired.”

“No. Pancakes in the morning?”

“Yeah.” Dave’s mouth lifts in to a smile, and he closes his eyes properly. “Goodnight, Hal.”

“Goodnight, Dave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops gay


	7. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoopsie day late oops

Sal folds her arms over and and lays back on the couch, as Frank stands idly and looks over two sheets of scrawled lyrics and sheet music she’s been working on for days. He really does take a good, long look at it, which is what she notices first, but he seems more confused than anything. 

“I can’t read sheet music, Sal.”

“Dave can. Ignore it, just look at the words. And if you don’t like this one, I got a couple more.”

He was very impressed with her drumming skills when she demonstrated them for him, and marginally impressed with her other skills. Dave had already inducted her to the band, but now there’s time to make it official. He ended up giving Frank a good word when she asked him about it again, having heard nothing from Frank. Then, Frank spent a while thinking, and he decided to let her join the band. Mostly because someone on the internet told him that he needed a drummer, and Sal Chandra is by all means an excellent one.

She’s got this flair to it that can only be described as drilling. She can go fast, or slow, but it’s always got a near-perfect uniformity to it that’s able to sound disorganised. She plays like a drum machine - she has a natural aptitude for it, even though she’s not built to do it, and if she can’t do it she learns.

Frank had her write a couple of songs, because Hal’s still not producing them. Especially since he started dating Dave. Therefore, this little meeting in Frank’s living room feels a lot more professional than shaking a sleep-deprived man’s hand. But she can’t help but feel out of place there. They are already in an established band and she is joining late. They wrote a whole album and performed without her, she feels like an addition. Theres a gig next week and she can only hope that she’s comfortable enough with them by then to not look as if she shouldn’t be there either.

“Hm. Okay.” Frank nods, and he looks over her lyrics again. She plays it nonchalant but in reality she is quite anxious as to what he will say. She doesn’t want to be. ‘ _Fake it until you make it’_ is her general attitude towards it.

“Okay, uh. I like this, actually.” He nods. “It’s... it’s good.”

“Just good?” Is her exasperated response. “Okay. What can make it better?”

“I don’t know yet. I like the lyrics so far.” He switches on to the next page. “You got that kinda flair your brother does where it’s. Really emotional and really deep but hidden behind something.”

“Does it fit? I know you and Hal had. An issue with that.”

“I mean, I haven’t heard it so I don’t know, but I like the lyrics.” Frank nods.

“Did he write anything you like since?”

“Uh. It’s all a little lovey-dovey for my taste.” He coughs. “And it’s not that I mind that him and Dave are a thing now but he’s definitely changed the way he writes.”

“You sound kinda jealous.”

“I’m not. I know it sounds that way, but I’m like. Not, y’know? Okay, well, I am. I am dubious, but not enough to stop me being happy for the both of them - I mean, they’re pretty goddamn happy together, they never stop holding hands. More of a. _Concern_ that they will break each other’s hearts and, furthermore destroy the band if it doesn’t work.”

“Just say you want to fuck Dave.”

He doesn’t respond, and he goes back to perusing through the lyrics Sal has presented him with. He rocks on his feet and sits down on the chair across from her, then slides them down on the coffee table. “You said you had other stuff for me?”

“Sure, sure.” Sal reaches in to her satchel and flicks through her folder to pull out two more sheets. These ones are even more abused, written time and time again, wrinkled and erased thousands of times over. 

When Frank looks over them the first time, it’s like staring at the ghosts of songs she has written. Time and time again, monotonous and tenuous writings to impress him. It’s more reminiscent of Hal’s work, and it’s highly emotional, it’s hard to get through at times without droning. This is what he wants on his album. 

“Yeah. I like this.” He nods. “This is what I wanted.”

“Okay. How can we communicate that to Hal? ‘Cause I don’t like writing music nearly as much as he does.”

“I did ask him, time and time again, but he can’t stop. He can’t really help it.” Frank shakes his head.

“Maybe... incorporate them somehow? That uh. Song about the crows and ravens he wrote, I thought it was really good, even if it was still a love song.”

“I didn’t like it.”

“Well, the three of us did. What if we put together a demo for it?”

“Maybe, I dunno. Where are they, anyway? I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

“Uh, they went to go write somewhere quiet. Dave said they were going to try and write something that wasn’t a love song for you, ‘cause Hal thinks you’re right and he’s getting sick of writing them.”

“Oh. Well, I think that’s good of him. Making an effort.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

••

Dave drives to a parking lot surrounded by grand fir trees - tens, if not thousands of years old. Regal trunks, reaching high in to the sky, forever shaded by reams of emerald leaves. They sit in the back of the car with a notebook and listen to the rain spitting on the windows. Hal scribbles down words and Dave points out the tone of them, in his estimation. Hal makes his edits accordingly. When they finish, they rewrite it neatly, and they go through it again.

It is a labouring process, but Hal is so happy to have someone to do it with him. He’s normally encumbered by his feelings and circumstances, and right now he is oh-so helplessly in love. He can’t help but write about those things. When he is like this, he struggles wholeheartedly to work on something he doesn’t care about, but now someone is guiding him. Dave does it gently, points things out softly. There is no obligation, he simply tells Hal when he needs to keep to a straight path. Because Dave cares about it, he finds it easier to pull off. 

Of course, Hal is still Hal. He can’t do it all, and a little romance works it’s way in but it feels like it works in the context. It alters the atmosphere of the song ever so slightly, but makes it all the more haunting. It is a song about finding what has been lost to you. Not necessarily love, but the joy of finding something that brings back memories, or the pain of it depending. Naturally, themes of love and romance have ample opportunities to make their ways in to the song. 

Hal restrains himself, and when they are finished he applies a rather dainty tune, but he sings with beautiful, righteous flair. It seems only right that Dave cups his cheeks and kisses him ever so tenderly on the lips. 

It’s an understated date but it is a date nonetheless and it is again indicative of romance for people who do not need much. They are reserved people by nature, but they find enough comfort and happiness in one another to share what they do have. 

Hal leans against Dave’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and tunes in to the sound of the rain on the car windows. The smell of pine needles fills his senses, until all he knows is that he is somewhere warm with the man he loves. Dave is astoundingly patient about it. His arm becomes numb under Hal’s weight but he doesn’t complain - it feels a little like when a cat comes to sit on your lap. The rain is picking up and the water thuds jerkily on the roof of the car, it grows dark inside and the ranger comes to tell them they have to leave or else they won’t be able to later.

Dave lays out a blanket for Hal in the passenger seat and he wraps himself up warm while Dave starts the car. The pine trees pass them, falling in to blurry masses of green as Hal stares from the window. Their hands join across the midsection of the car but that’s all the contact they need at this moment. 

The car dances across the scenic valley, trailing down dangerously wet and curvy roads with precision and ease, and watching the roads snake by in sharp curls enraptures Hal. When Dave glances over to check he’s not too anxious he can’t stop himself from smiling as Hal watches so eagerly it’s endearing. His chubby cheeks risen up, the dimples in his chin prominent, his smile so genuine.

“Do you think Frank will like it?” Hal asks suddenly, with a worried little look on his face that tugs at Dave’s heartstrings. “I really do not wish to disappoint him again.”

“I think he will. I think it’s really good, like your old stuff. Still don’t think it should all be the same though. I’m gonna ask him if we can use some of your stuff anyway, it seems unfair that you pour your heart in to it and then he just. Brushes it off because it’s a little too romantic for his liking.”

“I think pouring my heart in to it is the problem. I don’t want to write the same thing over and over.” He shakes his head. “It seems to be a very fine line to walk - I would like everyone to enjoy the songs I write, yet I want to enjoy them myself too.”

“Me and Sal love what you write. Me especially.”

“Well, you are my _boyfriend_.” Hal smiles again, and he flaps his hand as he says it. 

“If I’m not flattering you, what am I even there for, amirite?” Dave laughs, and at the sound Hal folds in on himself and has to look away to cool himself down. It’s one of those idiosyncrasies that Dave’s gotten used to, that he finds frankly adorable. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes! And I love you, too.”

The curved roads of the cliffs wane until Dave is driving in a straight line on the interstate. 

••

“Well? Do you like it?” Hal asks impatiently. Frank’s barely had time to read the whole thing but he’s excited about it, and he can’t keep himself distracted much longer. He poured his heart in to something else for once and it feels amazing. “I am open to changing some of it, if it is not to your standard.”

“No, no. I uh. I like it, I think it’s really good.”

Hal nods to acknowledge him. It’s not quite the reaction he expected, especially after all the trouble he went through to write it. But he refuses to stand there idly and get upset - this is more affirmation than he has had since he wrote the last album. He controls his emotions using that fact.

“I wanted to ask you, Frank, if we could use some of the other songs I wrote. The ones that you didn’t like as much - Sal, Dave, and myself like some of them and I would appreciate it greatly if we could at least edit them, so we could all be happy with them.” He clasps his hands together to seem more dignified, and he sits down in between Dave and Sal. 

He’s ready to make a case for the music he has so diligently written. Even if they are love songs, they still have a certain atmosphere of hopelessness and yearning he feels ties in with the band’s aesthetic very well. Besides that, he is starting to become unhappy with how Frank seems to have the final say in what they produce, when he has not liked his own songs and been ignored when he speaks out. He would like to make sure the quality of his work doesn’t suffer in order to please Frank.

“I don’t think love songs are gonna work for us, Hal. It’s just... it’s not us, y’know?”

“Well, when we only have one album, how do we really know what ‘us’ is?” Hal tilts his head sideways. “I feel we should broaden what themes and emotions we explore in our music. Exploration seems to be a very important part of making music. Many composers and musicians achieve to the best of their abilities when they step outside their comfort zones. I feel I am susceptible to this very phenomenon at the moment.”

“I have enjoyed what you’ve been writing but it feels like a big step in a very different direction to what we did in the last album.” Frank shrugs. “And I get that exploration thing but I still want people to like it.”

“Well, it’s not their choice what we write, is it? Loads of bands I like have done bad albums, but I still listen to them. Besides, _I_ don’t think any of the songs he wrote were bad, and what matters is what _we_ think of our music.” Dave folds his arms over and grits his teeth. It is a blatant defence of his boyfriend, but he knows Sal feels the same way. He’s a little sick of Hal being brushed off. “You said you liked them, I don’t see why we can’t at least demo them.”

Sal lays back in to the couch and rubs her temples. “Frank, I know it’s probably not my place to say this, but why do you get the final say in it?”

“Agreed, actually.” Dave puts one of his hands on Hal’s. The confrontation is taking a toll on him. “We made this band, Frank, I feel like even if you wanted us to have more of a say in what we create it should be precisely that - us. A lot of this seems to be just you. Not a dig, I just don’t think you’ve realised that.”

Hal shrinks back in to himself and presses his shoulders together. He feels out of place and caught in the middle but there’s still a lot of guilt on his behalf for putting Frank on the spot like that. Maybe he could have shut up about it. Or have just understood the songs were bad, or written better ones, or tried harder-

“Hal? Hey, you okay?” Frank’s own voice pulls him away from it. His shoulders relax and he finds himself leaning in to Dave. 

“Don’t ignore what he just said.” Sal interjects. “Hal’s a little shaken. He’ll be fine. You need to focus on what we’re talking about because it is very important to everyone in the room.”

“Well, no! I’m worried about Hal. You look really uncomfortable, are you sure you’re-”

“Dave, why don’t you take Hal somewhere else and help him out?” She snaps, and flashes a sardonic little smile to reassure the both. She looks back at Frank, and resumes her furrowed eyebrows. “Now, please.”

Dave takes Hal by the hand and leads him in to the study, now converted in to a practice room. Sal clasps her hands across her midsection, but doesn’t sit up. Remains slumped back in the seat, but captures his attention.

“I get where you’re coming from but this is always the way it’s worked. If I didn’t. Steer them, we’d have six songs about Dave’s dead brother. Right now we have six songs about Hal pining over his crush.”

“Okay, but they’re not. You are viewing them as an insider, who knows what he was going through when he wrote them. Everyone will look at them differently. And Dave is right - I get if you don’t want me or Hal to have too much control. You guys started the band. But in that case, Dave should have control too. Besides, if he wants to write a bunch about something that has had a huge impact on his life then yeah, I say let him. And like, he likes what Hal wrote too.”

“He’s biased.”

“I know he is. I know he’s fuckin’ biased - they’re dating, for God’s sake - but he likes them just as much as you do. It’s not nepotism, it’s the fact you seem to have a stick up your ass about the fans. We don’t have any, for a start. One or two, at the most. And to be honest, we’re gonna reach more people the more we do explore.”

“It’s just, that I. I. I don’t want people to not like us because we ‘went poser.’ Which happens, I’ve seen it happen with my friends.”

“Oh please, you didn’t even listen to the music Hal wrote to go with it. He’s an Android, he sings in monotone. He can’t get it across in the same way Dave can, despite the feeling he puts in. So yeah, it sounds a bit poser-y until you have the both of them going, and you have the music with it. This is why demos are a thing. And there is _nothing_ poser about falling in love with someone and not being able to tell them. That’s some of the most real stuff you can write, that shit hits hard.”

“Okay. Maybe you’re right, I mean, I do, I really like what he’s been writing, but I’m pretty set on this. I just don’t think they fit.”

Sal thinks for a moment, indexes the rejected songs Hal wrote. Judges which one is the darkest, which one will impress Frank the most. A specific name comes to mind.

“Corvid. Just Corvid, that’s all I ask. The rest of them? Yeah, I get that. But Corvid fits if you will just listen to it.”

Frank reluctantly agrees, though he hopes to god that she’s right.


	8. Corvid

Corvid is a dark song. It retells the story of a crow picking shining trinkets from across its territory until it has the perfect combination in it’s nest, only to find the curios were made of lead, and were slowly poisoning it. It represents the trust you put in someone when you fall in love with them, and how it can be hard to navigate who to trust, as you never know for sure. Hal thinks it was one of his more meaningful songs, and it means a lot to him. Dave can certainly feel that energy as they record in the storage-room-turned-studio.

They sit side by side at their keyboard and play a duet of complicated arrangement. Hal takes the right side of the keyboard, and Dave takes the left. In performance, they plan to play this on a baby grand with a particularly more comfortable seat, and perhaps one just a little larger so they can play a little less squished together. Dave is clearly the better pianist, so he takes the arrangement that scares Frank and Hal takes the one that is a little more succinct. 

Hal can’t get Dave out of his head. It’s not just his charming smile or his deep blue eyes. He has a voice like honey, and he plays the piano so beautifully Hal loses himself in the motions of his fingers. They sweep so deftly across the keys, and produce a beautiful sound even as they hit them. It makes Hal feel grounded in his senses and distracts him a little as he’s trying to make himself more fluent in the arrangement.

Singing takes the both of them, and mostly together, too. After the first recording of the song they sing it again to layer their voices. Dave doesn’t quite understand how it’s done, but Hal knows how to edit this together on the computer in the corner of the ‘studio.’ They turn it in to a rather romantic affair, singing to one another rather than the microphone, but it doesn’t really matter; they can still be heard well on the track. 

Of course, they finish and have to free up the studio and let Frank listen to the song. Dave asks Hal for a coffee when they realise just how late it is - surprisingly, he obliges. He says he’s worried for Dave’s sleep, but he knows they’re unlikely to get much anyway. Frank has a habit of getting them to record in the young hours of the morning. They cuddle up on the couch while he listens to their ramblings, Dave drinks, and Hal closes his eye to enter sleep mode. He needs time to replenish himself before he records, at any rate.  
  
Frank, after some time, comes out of the box to the side of his bedroom and shuffles through to the living room.

“What do you think?” Dave can’t hold it in.

“It’s. It’s really fuckin’ good.”

“As in, putting it on the album good? Because we. Put a lot in to it.” He speaks quietly as to not wake Hal. He’s aware of the conversation but still feigning sleep so serenely. “We really did, and it means. This means so much to him.”

“Yeah, I. I think so, I think we can. It’s... it’s the best we have so far, you guys did really well.” Frank admits. “Could you. Come see me in the kitchen, I wanna talk to you alone.”

“Oh, but I’m holding-”

“Go if you have to.” Hal mumbles, opening his eye a little. “It’s okay.”

Dave lets him down gently, with a kiss on the head. He slides a pillow under him and pulls a throw blanket up around his shoulders. Hal sleepily closes his eye again, and Dave joins Frank in the kitchen. He leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee.

“Okay. What did you want to tell me?”

“You deserve an apology. I’m sorry for not listening to you, but you were right. I didn’t know I was doing it.” Frank folds his arms over and leans back. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I honestly don’t mind, as long as you like. Own up to it, which you have. I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Dave smiles at him. “I’m also glad you like the song, it means so, so much to Hal.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. I love his writing, and I love him, too, and he’s just. He was so happy when we were recording it.”

“You really do like him, huh?”

“I mean, yeah, we’ve gotten super close, and he’s just, oh, he’s the sweetest thing in the world and he has the softest hair and the cutest smile and his cuddles are just. Oh, they’re amazing, you should ask for a hug one day-”

“It’s okay. I get it. I’m really happy you’ve finally found someone that’s good for you.”

“Finally?” Dave scoffs and laughs all at once, sliding his coffee down on to the table.

“Oh please, Dave, you don’t have good taste at all.” Frank laughs, Dave rolls his eyes and smiles. “I was starting to get worried about you. But Hal? He’s good. Keep him.”

“I plan on it. I love him. And I know it’s only been a month but he’s just, he’s so perfect. Sometimes he looks up at me through his lashes and my heart just _melts_.” Dave clasps his hands over his chest. “You been doing anything? I saw you with a couple of people after our last gig but I was too busy keeping Hal calm to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Oh, I haven’t been like. Getting much, actually. Been busy managing three idiots and a band, y’know.” He shrugs. “I don’t mind it.”

“You look like you do mind it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, uh. I can’t help but notice you always look. You look... sad, whenever me and Hal are cuddling, and I’m getting. Kinda worried.”

“It’s not either of you, it’s just that I’m a little touch starved.”

“Do you want me to hug you?” 

Dave opens his arms, and Frank fills them obligingly. The difference in their sizes is no longer so noticeable, though Frank’s arms lock strongly around Dave’s back and keep him pinned to Frank’s chest. It’s not unwanted at all, Dave finds its actually comforting to be held so tightly and firmly. He shuts his eyes, tucks his head just over Frank’s shoulder, and pets his back to a slow rhythm as they hug. 

Frank tucks his nose in to Dave’s hair as they hug. Dave still leans back against the counter but Frank takes the weight off his back and shields him from the island. He notices a sudden weight on his own back, and a dark hand slips forwards and wraps around him. Hal. While he’s surprised to feel it at first he takes it in stride and lets Hal cuddle and rest on him until he feels Dave has gone a little floppy, and is snoring a little in his sleep.

“Uh, where do you want me to put him?” Frank holds him up, and he makes it look like easy work. Dave is much heavier when he’s asleep.

“Where does he normally sleep when he is here? I don’t think I have ever been here so late, or early.”

“On the floor or the couch, but I. I don’t think either of you want to sleep on the floor, or the couch, I. Do you want to sleep in my bed? There’s space for the three of us, if we cuddle.”

“Okay.” Hal nods quietly. “Allow me to change in to my sweatpants and then I will join in.”

Frank takes Dave in to his bedroom and lays him out on the bed. When he hits the mattress he slips a slight smile, but he still snores away and barely moves. He takes his own shirt off and throws it down on the floor, then tucks them both in. He slips one hand behind Dave, back, puts the other on his chest and rests his head on Dave’s shoulder. He’s bony, and lanky, but contact is contact. Dave is warm against him and his heartbeat can just about be heard through the bone - Frank drinks it up. He barely even notices when Hal comes in, switches the light off and crawls up against the wall in to the bed. He assumes the same position Frank does and dims his lens to make it easier to sleep.

“You seem to have stolen my boyfriend.” Hal giggles, as quietly as he possibly can. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, I can tell why you never let go of him. So fuckin’ warm. Lanky, but you can’t have everything.”

“I think he is perfect.” A pause. “It’s nice to be in a big bed. I feel very comfortable here.”

“Oh, I forgot you guys sleep in a kids bed. How’s that going for you?”

“I am thinking of buying a better one. He is always complaining of backache - I tell him painkillers won’t ward it off forever but he doesn’t listen. My joints are also often quite stiff in the morning.”

“That’s what Dave does... he thinks he knows what’s best for himself, he really doesn’t. I’m a little worried for him. Nothing you can really do about it, other than buy a new bed and hope his back gets better. God knows he’ll never tell a doctor.”

“I get very worried about him.” Hal pouts. “But I shall send him to the doctors soon. He has been an insomniac as of late, even before we were dating. Cuddling with me helped him a little but he’s always waking up at night.”

“Let’s hope two people are enough to keep him knocked out.”

“Yes!” Hal smiles. “And I don’t think he could move even if he wanted to, so there’s no threat of him waking up to make himself a coffee.”

“You made him a coffee earlier.”

“Don’t tell him, but it was decaffeinated.”

Silence falls between them like a blanket of snow. Hal seems to have entered a state of sleep when he speaks again.

“Frank, I am quite nervous for the show tomorrow. I am... afraid... that we may be stagnating as we have performed there before.” He chirps quietly, running his hand over Dave’s chest. 

“Completely different set, though. None of the same songs. It’s fine, we’re gonna be fine. And we also got your sister on drums, we’ll be perfect.” Frank snakes the hand on Dave’s chest over to Hal’s back, and pets him. Dave is right - he’s _very_ warm and _very_ soft. “You’re a good singer, skilled guitarist, really, you just. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you, Frank. That’s very kind.”

He keeps his hand on Hal, but closes his eyes. Sleep takes him eventually.

••

Dave is surprised to wake up with Hal to one side, and Frank to the other, but he decides he likes it pretty quickly. Still sleepy, and dreaming in bed, he lets them hold him, and becomes docile there with them. His eyes droop, his heartbeat slows, but he feels a rush in his chest that’s hard to ignore, and a warmth in his cheeks. He feels so comfortable, and so loved, even though he’s wearing yesterday’s clothes, and he’s been laid on his back for hours. The shoulder Frank is leaning on is dead, Hal’s head on his chest will leave an unsightly red mark, and yet he soldiers on with the discomfort because it’s not _discomfort_. In a way, it’s become comfortable.

The sun filters through the blinds and lands on Hal’s face. It travels down his body and lands on Frank’s hand, and Dave’s chest. The rays of sun are so warm, and he is so content where he is, Dave feels himself sinking so readily back to sleep. He never feels this way. He _never_ falls back asleep after he’s woken up, and he hasn’t since he was a kid. Here he is, falling asleep, and maybe in love a little. He presses his lips to Frank’s forehead, then turns and kisses Hal, too. Dishing out the affection to them both seems like the right thing to do.

Could he let Frank in to their relationship? Maybe he could. It certainly satisfies a strange, juxtaposing need of his, to both cuddle and to be cuddled. He likes Frank, physically and mentally. He’s funny, and kind, and he’s big in the shoulders and chest. There’s a lot to cuddle, and a lot to kiss, and he knows Frank is big on affection. Dave can easily imagine himself cuddled up with Frank, held tight and comfortable in his arms, kissing him, and-

No. Not yet.

Physical intimacy between them won’t be a problem. Emotional intimacy may be a little harder to obtain, but he’s certainly been open with Frank before. He could do it if he wanted to, which he does. He likes the idea of it.

But there’s the issue of Hal. Dave loves him. There are no other words to describe it. It’s pure, unbridled love, it flows out of him at every chance he gets. He’s never felt like this before, and he certainly doesn’t view Frank in the same way he does Hal. A couple other things concern him, too - Hal’s innocent. Frank might not respect that in the same way Dave does. Dave’s also taken on a protecting role in the relationship. He cares for Hal, helps him cope with big crowds and afterparties, knows exactly where to apply pressure in order to soothe him. Frank doesn’t. 

And besides that, what will Hal think? Hal might be innocent but he is _certainly_ possessive of Dave. He can understand why, too. This is his first relationship and he had a huge crush on Dave before it even started. This is really important to him and it might hurt to share Dave with someone. He certainly doesn’t want that for Hal. He will ask, but he wants this to be on Hal’s terms. He is happy either way. 

Even with his mind so embroiled in thought, he finds sleep easily, and does so both comfortably and well loved.

••

“So, uh. They have just told me we need to go back on because the next guys on still aren’t here.” Frank crosses his arms over his chest. “The fuck do we do?”

“Shit.” Sal stares blankly at the floor. “I mean, we’re gonna have to perform, obviously. How long?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“We’re gonna have to work some of the demos in.” She shrugs. “Nothing else to do, unless we want to do like. Our other stuff.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Which ones?”

“Corvid, ‘cause they’ve been working on it, My Happy Confessional, and Accidental Death of an Anarchist should take us over.” 

“But My Happy Confessional doesn’t fit. It’s one of those songs, that-“

“We said we were gonna give them a chance, the bass line is that repetitive one. Trust me.”

Hal overhears this, and his heart drops deep. He’s on his own and he’s not too sure how to deal with the change in plan. Dave is busy having a photo taken, and he feels cold and lonely, even in his nice warm sweater that smells like Dave. It’s not heavy. He wants _pressure_. Specifically, he wants Dave. That’s what he’s seeking. He wanders out in to the corridor and looks around for him. He’s too scared to find Dave in the crowds outside but he pushes himself past his sister and stumbles through the club, looking for any sign of him. 

It gets dark and his lens illuminates his frantic search. A pair of arms surround him; he jerks up and is met with Dave’s soft chest.

“What are you doing all the way back here?”

“We’re going to perform again.”

“I know. I came to find you. What do you need me to do for you?”

“Hug, please.” Hal chirps. Dave’s arms envelop him, wrap around him tightly. It soothes him a little but in the sound and light of the main club, he can’t help but feel anxious and upset. Dave notices, sneaks around the edge of the club - carrying Hal to keep him together - and manages to get them in to the backstage corridor. 

Hal practically magnetises to Dave when they’re out of eyeshot. Dave rocks him, and whispers soft, sweet little nothings in to Hal’s hair, to help soothe him and ready him for performance again. 

“Hey, dreamboat?” Sal folds her arms and pokes her head through the door. “We need you both on, quick.”

“Yeah, I’m just. Comforting him.”

“Oh, right. I can buy you guys like a minute, but then you’re gonna have to get on. Also, Dave, you’re introducing us again.”

“Sure, sure. But uh. Hal, first.”

Dave tightens his hold on his boyfriend and kisses his forehead. Because he’s not human, there are very few indicators as to how he’s feeling, save verbal communication which he doesn’t seem to want to do. 

“Okay, Hal. We have to go on now, but I promise I’ll hold you all night.”

Dave lets go, and Hal shifts around uncomfortably. He holds his own arms and squeezes the fabric of his sweater.

“I can’t do it.” He shakes his head. “I want to go home now.”

“We can’t go home, but we get to sing Corvid together, it’ll be okay. We’ll sit together and play, just like we did before.”

He nods quietly, but he’s still scared. It’s hard for Dave to coax him up the stairs to the stage but they manage to do so. Hal sits in the corner with his guitar as Dave warms up the audience.

“Hi.” He announces, exasperated, to his audience, and is met by a hoard of laughter. “I know I just said goodnight, but the next band isn’t here yet, so you’re all lumbered with us again.”

More laughter, including Hal’s little chirpy giggle from behind. He loves how Dave can tap in to his charisma so easily. It overtakes him with the ease of flicking a switch, or cutting butter with a hot knife - he is no longer shy and reserved but a veritable sex icon, oozing with confidence and charm. He motions Hal to sit at the piano with him.

“So, we’ve kinda. Run out of songs to sing, and we think we’re pretty cool and don’t want to play the same thing twice, so we’re just gonna play some of our new stuff. This one’s called Corvid.” He hops over to the piano, and slides in next to Hal. 

The spotlight shines on them alone, detracting from Sal and Frank. The circle of light slowly shrinks to cover them, and the baby grand they play on; displayed to the side, so Dave is visible to the audience and not so much Hal. Being a demo, they have the sheet music arranged in front of them, (Sal has, kindly, put this there for them to save time) which is certainly visible, but the audience doesn’t seem to mind. 

They begin the opening bars. Again, with Dave on the lower-octave arrangement, and Hal on the higher. The two arrangements are written to sound like they’re dovetailing - while hard to audibly decode, it certainly sounds appealing. Their conflicting styles of play also have a profound effect on the way it sounds. Dave’s graceful handling of the keys makes for the deeper layers of the music’s atmosphere, whereas Hal’s deliberately jaunty, messy playing adds the higher, superficial layers. In a way, it is as if Hal plays for the crow the song speaks of, and Dave for what the tale of the crow represents. 

Hal is the one that starts singing, and he might as well because it is his song. It’s certainly a little jarring to hear such a voice against such soulful music, imbued with feeling, but it is accepted, and it grows on the audience. It is a comforting voice, one that cushions and soothes, and his singing is wonderful, too. Dave joins him in the chorus and while his voice still sounds good there he lacks the atmosphere Hal brings to the song. Yet again, it dovetails so well, because his voice brings feeling, and intonation, to it all. He seems to understand that Hal is the leader here, and quietens himself so Hal can be heard best of all.

Dave’s voice tapers away as they hit the second verse, and he is taken away by the sheer splendour of Hal’s. The way he handles the song is divine, and while they didn’t sing like this in recording he feels it’s the right way to do it. To leave Hal to sing these parts alone. His eyes drift towards him, and he becomes lost (but never loses his concentration, and still plays diligently) in how Hal’s lips dance across the words, how his cheeks move up and down as he sings. 

At the second chorus, they sing together again, bringing in a tandem of harmony. Warmth and feeling fills the air between them as they separate the song they sing from the audience, until they feel as if they are alone in the room and singing to one another. The microphones make work of this, and they are heard perfectly across the silent room even if their heads are leant together just a little.

The bridge requires them to sing and play a complicated round, but they pull it off effortlessly, much to the delight of the audience, and Frank. He’s a little worried that since this is based off their demo, it’s still a little unpolished, but the song has grown on him and he loves the way they sing with one another. Dave stops completely when it comes to Hal’s solo, where it takes all his concentration and energy to play to the standard Dave does. He doesn’t miss a single note, he is perfect in every manner of performance.

Their voices couple together again for the final chorus and the coda, and as they finish a hoard of applause hits their ears. Hal can’t help but hug Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that’s gay fam


	9. Boyfriends

Too tired to go home themselves, Hal and Dave sleep in Frank’s bed again, though Frank himself doesn’t sleep with them until they are sound asleep. When he does, they are curled up in the corner by the wall. Rather sweaty and sticky, Frank chooses not to embrace them, but he does feel his way through Dave’s hair and pets Hal’s soft cheek before settling down to sleep himself.

He wakes up to find Dave cuddled with him, mouth wide open and dribbling a little. His arms are wrapped around Frank messily, like he moved over in his sleep. Hal’s in the kitchen, and Frank can hear the sound of frying - pancakes, maybe. Hopefully for the both of them, but he can never be sure. He also hears Hal humming a tune, of which he doesn’t know, but it feels nostalgic.

He presses his nose in to Dave’s hair. It was straight when they met, when he was keeping it as short as possible, but now it’s growing a little, it’s starting to curl at the ends and stray floppily in to his face. It smells like butterscotch, too. It’s rich and sweet, despite the masking clouds of axe and deodorant he assaults himself with daily. He runs his hands through it again, tracing the soft curls with his fingers. His hair is so soft, and so is the skin of his cheeks as he runs a finger down it. 

Dave mumbles something quietly. Frank can’t make it out but he moves his hands away, in case he was going too far, in case Dave thought he was Hal, which would be awkward as hell.

“Put it back.” Dave mutters through sleep, and falls straight back in to a snore. Frank slips his hands back in to Dave’s hair, but strokes him slowly, instead. He feels as a smile presses in to his chest, and he can’t help but force a little air out his nose. “Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Good morning. Where’s Hal?”

“He’s making food.”

“Oh... that’s nice.” Dave smiles again. “Have we been cuddling for long?”

“I woke up and found you like this.”

“Mm. And... and then the hair, huh?” He pushes his head in to Frank’s hand, rubs against it like a cat would. 

“Yeah, it feels nice. Super soft, what are you putting in it?” Frank ruffles his hands through it. 

“I found some new hair wash for curly hair. It’s for hipsters.” 

“Ooh.” With a dead shoulder, Frank turns on to his side, and Dave falls with him. Dave’s arms stay firmly wrapped around him. It takes a moment for them to settle, but once they are it’s warm and cosy in bed, so appropriate for the coming winter.

Frank considers asking Dave how he really feels. If he does this for comfort, or if he does it because he loves Frank. He would much prefer the latter, but any answer would be soothing to him. Being kept on edge - even if Dave isn’t even aware of it - is difficult for him, because he never knows what’s acceptable to do. Can he put a hand on Dave’s waist or thigh? Can he kiss him? He certainly wants to.

“Did you sleep well?” Dave asks quietly, rousing himself slowly. “Dreams, nightmares...?”

“None that I’m aware of. I think I slept pretty well, I feel well rested. Got a headache, though.”

Dave pets his head gently, rubbing at Frank’s temple with his thumb. He grows close, and so does his mouth, and as the pain starts to ebb Dave kisses his forehead. His lips are soft and dry, and as they meet with his throbbing forehead he sighs softly.

“Thank you, Dave.” His lips turn up in to a little smile. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Good.”

The door creaks open, and Hal clears his throat before talking. “Dave, Frank? Breakfast is ready.” 

Dave shoots out of bed and over to his boyfriend, and clasps his arms around Hal. He ruffles his hair and kisses him on the head, all the while mumbling sweet, nothings and proclaiming his love messily and quietly. Frank can’t really make any of them out, but Hal seems to enjoy hearing them.

“Good morning, Dave.” Hal looks up, and smiles. “How long have you been awake? You were very asleep when I went to make breakfast.”

“Not long.” Dave nests his nose in Hal’s hair, and fits his arms nicely around Hal’s hips. “Oh, you’re so cuddly, aren’t you? I love you.”

“Come on, it’s breakfast time. You don’t like soggy pancakes!” Hal yanks on Dave’s hand, and his fingers interlace with it. Frank realises he feels like a third wheel again. “And you, Frank! I got new syrup just for you!”

“Fuck yeah, syrup.” He sticks his hand up from the bed, and crawls out. He massages his temples in his hands and stumbles towards them. Dave sits down at the table, with his pancakes, but Frank leans on the doorframe and groans. “Oh, shit. Uh, Hal, while you’re up, would you. Would you get me a painkiller? Or an... ibuprofen? Two, please.”

“Have you got a hangover?” Hal furrows his brow, obvious concern creeping on to his face.

“Uh, I don’t think I do, actually. My head just, really really hurts. 

“Sit at the table, I will get them for you now.” 

Frank staggers to the chair set out for him and practically falls in to it - Dave steadies him and helps him in to the chair. Frantically, Dave jumps from his seat and pulls the curtains shut, hoping it might help Frank with his migraine.

“Maybe you should go back to bed after breakfast.” Dave pouts as he slides back under the table. “I’m a little worried, I won’t lie.”

“I agree with Dave. Take these, and once they have kicked in, go get some rest.” Hal presses two pills in to his hand. “Would you make sure he does that for me, Dave?”

“Why, where are you going?” Dave’s eyes widen a little, as Hal moves across the room and starts to pack his things in to his bag quickly. “You didn’t say you were going anywhere.”

“I am going home. Sal says there’s a chance our dad may come to check on us today, and while slim I would hate to disappoint him.” Hal finishes off by fitting his warm coat over his body, and sliding the handles of his backpack over arms and hooking them on his shoulders. He kisses Dave on the head. “I love you very much. Please text me, I would especially like a goodnight text.”

“And you’ll get one, because I’m a good boyfriend.” 

“I know.” Hal smiles. Dave sees his dimples and melts a little on the inside. He stands up to face Hal.

“Okay. I love you, and here’s your very, _very_ early goodnight kiss.” He plants a big, messy kiss on Hal’s cheek. Hal flaps his hands and clasps his arms around his boyfriend. They cuddle one another as they haphazardly walk towards the door. Dave presses little kisses on Hal’s cheek and forehead, and finishes with a special right one on the nose.

“Goodbye!” Hal chirps as he leaves. “Don’t forget to rest, Frank! You need it.”

“I will.” Frank smiles and sighs deeply. Hal shuts the door. “He’s so fuckin’ cute, Dave.”

“He is.” Dave admits as he sits and resumes his feast of pancakes. Hal made them extra syrupy, just for him.

Frank massages his forehead. Even though he’s thrown back the pills his head is still throbbing and he groans again. 

“You okay by there? I mean, clearly you’re not. But do you, do you want me to turn off any more lights, or shut any more curtains?”

“Pull down the kitchen blinds.” Frank stammers, pointing you at the room’s main source of light. Dave rushes towards the window and pulls the cord, shrouding the room in near darkness. Just enough to see and eat. “Thanks.”

The conversation is dropped as Dave realises talking is only worsening Frank’s headache. He doesn’t force anything, not even the food Hal made, but Frank eats it all anyway, before standing and leaning forwards on the doorframe.

“Hey, Dave, would you mind, uh. Laying down with me.” He coughs.

“Yeah, sure.” Dave smiles, and stands from his chair. He helps Frank in to bed, shuts the blinds as best he can, then lays down in bed, shuts his eyes and lets Frank fit his arms around him. It’s strange to be there knowing Hal isn’t there with him.

“You wanna spoon?” Frank grumbles.

“Big or little?”

“I’ll be the big spoon.”

Dave turns and fits himself comfortably in to the scoop that Frank makes with his body. Frank snakes his arms around Dave’s chest and stomach. For Dave, being held like this is immensely comforting. Having someone pressed up behind him is enough to make him feel protected, and he really hasn’t felt protected in a while, even though he’s felt safe with Hal. It’s the slight burliness that Frank possesses, that cups Dave’s shoulders and back in their entirety, that makes him feel this way. He feels special, too. He’s alone with Frank, who has a nose buried in his hair, and he’s putting everything in to hugging him. He adores it.

The only way this could be better is if Hal was neatly tucked in his arms, and he could pet and kiss his boyfriend to his heart’s content. Right now, he doesn’t feel like he can take one of Frank’s hands from his chest, and kiss it ever so gently as he would with Hal. It could be inappropriate, or Frank might not want it.

Dave doesn’t know, but Frank does want it. He wants to peck at Dave’s neck with his lips, or leave a hickey - in fact, leaving a hickey is precisely what he wants to do. But Hal would most definitely see it, even if Dave wanted it. That’s where things grow a little fuzzy. It certainly doesn’t feel like this is cheating on Hal, especially as Hal has been sleeping in this bed himself. But it could be. Out of everything they’ve done that can be perceived as romantic, Hal has never objected, though he’s never really reacted to it.

Absentmindedly, Frank presses his lips to the base of Dave’s neck, at the soft patch of skin where the neck meets the shoulder. Dave pulls his shirt down, and exposes the shoulder. Frank kisses along it, and sucks gently at the warm, slightly salty skin, stopped only by his teeth. He tries not to leave any marks but the red welts glare at him. He stops himself for a moment before realising he doesn’t care.

••

They sleep most of the day away after their somewhat sexual encounter. Dave stays tucked neatly in his arms, and Frank sleeps the migraine off. When he awakens at dusk, it takes him a moment to remember he hickeyed Dave but when he does he regrets it. One or two of them have left a little bruise, barely noticeable but he knows Hal would notice if he saw. Then he notices that Hal is curled up happily with them, and the guilt sets in his chest.

“Good evening, Frank.” Hal smiles, and giggles. “You stole my boyfriend again.”

“I can’t help it.” He decides Hal doesn’t have to know about the hickeys. He doesn’t seem to mind the cuddling aspect.

“I know. If I was you I wouldn’t be able to help myself either.” He buries himself in to Dave’s chest. “I like Dave.”

“I know you do. You love him. Did your dad come?”

“No. That’s why I’m here, I was bored at home so Dave invited me over! He was still stuck here so I cuddled up with him. I hope that’s alright.” Hal shakes his head, and lifts it from Dave’s chest. “Oh, something very exciting happened. We were in the paper!”

“Okay, elaborate on that?” Frank raises an eyebrow.

“A music journalist was doing a piece on rising bands, and we were featured. There was a picture of me and Dave playing at the last gig. Oh, oh, and your answer machine has some messages, I think. I saw it blinking when I came in. Can I sleep here again?” His voice is rushing a little, despite its soothing monotone. Frank can’t help but put a hand on the side of his face, to soothe him. He’s so very energetic and happy.

“Yeah, you can sleep here. Did you bring something to sleep in?“

“I brought Dave some warm clothes, and a hairbrush, and some more of his clothes for me. I like wearing them.”

“‘Cause they smell like him?” 

“Yes. And because they make me feel special - I will be wearing my _boyfriend’s_ t-shirt! It is a lovely feeling.”

“I can imagine.”

Dave stirs, and paws at his face, dragging a streak of leftover black mascara down his cheek. He notices Hal’s presence and pulls him closer - Hal’s giggle rings across the room like a bell. His lips trail over Hal’s forehead, as he mutters something incomprehensible in to it.

“Hello, Dave.” Hal puts one of his hands in Dave’s hair. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” Dave presses another kiss to his head. Intimacy comes so easily to them. “Hey, Frank. Finally awake?”

“I am, and I’m feeling a lot better. Your poor legs, though, you haven’t walked all day. Or eaten.”

“Worth it! How about we order food and cuddle up and watch shitty movies until we fall asleep again?”

“Yeah! Okay. Okay, we’ll do that.”

“Could we get one of those charm things, so I can chew on it? The flavour on the one you bought me has faded, and I accidentally broke it in half by being too aggressive with it.” Hal asks quietly. He seems a little ashamed of what he’s asking - knitting his shoulders together, shifting around uncomfortably - but Dave puts a hand on his cheek and runs over it in circles with his finger. Hal’s relieved by it instantly. 

“Of course we can, Hal. Tell me when it breaks next time, so I can get you a new one, okay?”

“Uh. Do you want me to go down to the rental store? I could get us some stuff, there are some movies I wanna see. Or we could show Hal some scary movies.” Frank teases.

“I don’t want to see a scary movie.”

“Yeah, I’m with Hal on this one. I don’t want you having a nightmare.” Dave smiles, still petting his cheek. 

“Sounds like you don’t want to get scared.” Frank giggles. “What, you think you’re gonna cry like a baby in front of Hal?”

“Shut up!” Dave laughs loudly, and swats at Frank. His whole body jitters as he does it, and it shakes the whole bed. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you cried.”

“Nah, he’s just scared of not being a big man and owning up to it.”

“Dave, you’re the manliest man I know.” Hal smiles, eyes sweet and bright. Dave runs his hands over Hal’s dimples affectionately. Hal sits up in bed and thinks for a moment. “Okay. Dave, me and you will get food, and Frank, go to the rental store and get us a nice movie.”

“What do you mean, nice movie?” Frank scoffs. “Hal, by the time I’m done you’ll be shaking loud enough to wake the dead!”

“Okay, but seriously, Frank, don’t. He _will_ cry.” Dave sits and Hal leans against his chest. It’s so _warm_. “Then Sal will murder the both of us - or maybe just you if she’s feeling generous.”

“I wouldn’t let her. I like the both of you! But you’re right, Dave, I would cry if it was too scary.”

“Denote ‘too scary.’” Frank raises an eyebrow.

Hal thinks for a moment. “I think the scariest thing I’ve ever watched was _The Thing_. Dad covered my eyes at the really scary bits.”

“Oh, shit, the dog thing! You ever seen Alien?”

“No.” Hal shakes his head.

“There’s this absolutely gross scene where an alien bursts straight out a guy’s chest.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to see that!” Hal shakes his head rapidly - Dave holds him close against his chest.

“And you won’t have to.” Dave croons at Hal, petting his hair, before looking up and pouting angrily at Frank. “Don’t, okay?”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

••

It’s so very warm, and so cosy, on the couch. Frank on the end, slouching against the arm and asleep. Dave sits in his lap, leaning against his broad chest with drooping eyes. Hal’s crawled in to Dave’s lap with one of his stuffed toys, his cheek pressed against Dave’s chest. A blanket encompasses the three of them as they cuddle. His eye is closed but he’s watching the TV through his lens. Dave’s running one hand through Hal’s hair, and has the other on his back. Hal’s wonderfully serene, and Dave’s close to falling asleep himself. Neither Hal or Dave know what they are watching but it’s there, looming in front of them.

Hal’s much too tired to say anything but he plays with his toy - an anthropomorphic daisy with big round eyes and a pert smile, aptly named Daisy. He claps it’s tiny green hands in front of his face. He’s afraid to admit that the motion calms him down. He’s afraid Dave will see and judge him for being so childish, but Dave looks down at him and smiles instead. The approval shines down on Hal like a beam.

“He’s cute.” Dave mumbles. “Where’d you get him, Hal?”

“I’ve had him since I was activated. He used to help me self regulate, now I just cuddle him because I want to.”

“Don’t forget about me, though. I need cuddles too.”

“You get them!” Hal giggles. “You get so many hugs from me.”

“Yeah, well maybe I would like some more!”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please can I have a hug?”

“Yes!” Hal wraps his arms around Dave tightly and hugs him. 

He’s felt this so many times before, god knows Hal loves hugging him, but every time he feels butterflies thudding in his chest, and it’s such a good feeling. He hugs back, holds Hal against him, takes in the soft scent of powdered silicon and overworked processors. He’s warm, and he’s so soft. His whole body feels a little like a marshmallow, and he’s not the skinniest, and it makes him a wonderful hugger.

Frank stirs beneath him, and opens his eyes to the room slowly. Sleepily he leans his head down on the small bruises he left earlier in the day. He rubs his eyes, shaking himself off from his sleep. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to be too upset about his awakening. He even smiles a little as he takes Dave in to his arms, slinking his arms around his waist.

“What’d I miss?” Frank mutters. “Clearly you two getting so cosy with each other.”

“You’re here too.” Dave looks back and raises one of his hands to Frank’s hair, running his fingers through the thick dark mess. He sighs and relaxes in to Frank properly. “This is nice.”

“Yeah, I bet it is, for you. All I have is a dead leg and a weight on my chest.” Frank chuckles, and he exacerbates his strain. Dave swats him, but his face is soft and his smile is kind.

“You wanna go to bed?”

“I like how you guys just. Sleep here now.” 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Hal tilts his head. “We don’t have much room at home.”

“I do like it, actually.” Frank admits unashamedly. “You’re both good cuddlers and not too annoying when I’m trying to sleep.”

“You love us really.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Frank sighs with a smile. “We should get to bed though. We all have work to do tomorrow.”

“That is a good idea, Frank.” Hal smiles patiently, and releases Dave from his grasp. He stands up and pulls Dave’s shorts up around his waist; they’re far too big and they fall down a little, on to his hips. The plaid pattern practically drowns him. He picks up his daisy and holds it to his chest. “Would you both like pancakes in the morning?”

“Yeah!” Dave crawls off Frank and stands, then falls back on to the couch. “Oh, shit.”

“Sorry for sitting on your legs.” Hal giggles, and offers Dave a hand, pulling him up. He leads him to the bedroom. 

Frank faces his own set of challenges as he hoists himself up and in to the bedroom, but when he does the payoff is certainly worth it. Crawling in to bed with Dave and Hal is like a breath of fresh air, even if they were cuddled up all day. Dave fits so well in to his arms, even from behind, he melts like honey to meet every curve and contour of Frank’s body. His hair still smells like butterscotch and Frank loses himself in it.

Hal is there too, peacefully nestled in Dave’s arms. His Daisy rests in the corner of the bed, near the wall. 

“Where do you want your goodnight kiss?” Dave asks Hal quietly. Hal gestures towards his nose, and Dave presses a tiny, yet tender kiss on the snub tip. A smile lights Hal’s cheeks. He settles in to Dave’s arms a little further.

“Don’t I get one?” Frank chides from behind with a smirk. 

“Where do you want it?” Dave turns his head back.

“Lips, please.” 

He’s partially joking, partially aching to see what Dave will do. He does want to be kissed, he wants to feel Dave’s lips against his again. He craves the warmth and the softness of Dave’s kiss - in fact, he craves Dave’s whole body but he’ll ignore the urge for now. When he feels Dave kiss him his eyes widen for a moment but ease in to it. Everything about him is eased as they kiss, as those plump lips grace his so gently and passionately. It only lasts a few seconds but it’s like being in heaven.

“Goodnight, Frank.” Dave smiles, and leaves him with a nuzzle. He turns back to Hal where his neck is much more comfortable.

Silence falls. Frank and Dave settle in to near sleep but Hal just can’t seem to. His ocular lens glows bright and red, washes the room with calming scarlet, but Dave knows its because he can’t sleep. He tries a lot to help Hal - petting and stroking, butterfly kisses, soft singing - but he seems to be thinking about something. He plays with his hands anxiously.

“Are we all... boyfriends now?” He asks after a while. “I would like to know, I am really quite confused as to our relationship.”

Frank opens one eye. “I kinda assumed that was the case, that we were. In a relationship, at least.” He lies a little. He thought Dave was just being a little suggestive, or in need of intimacy he doesn’t get from Hal. He’s scared of being let in to the relationship, even if he’s so enamoured by Dave. Dave seems to like his affection but Hal seems quite anxious around him at times. He certainly doesn’t want to make Hal uncomfortable, either. He still needs to be honest. “I’d like it, though. If I could be with the both of you.”

“We can be if you want.” Dave runs his index finger through Hal’s hair, curling it over his plump cheek. “I want to, definitely. I’m... needy, and I want the both of you. But only if you’re okay with it, that’s important to me.”

Hal thinks for a moment. “I would like to have two boyfriends. I enjoy being cuddled up like this, and I enjoy being with you both. But, Frank, I would like to spend more time with you before I consider you my boyfriend. I have spent a lot of time with Dave before doing so. I think we should establish emotional intimacy before we consider ourselves lovers.”

“Okay, I understand that, I can live with that.” Frank nods. “What about you, Dave?”

“We’re pretty, well. I mean, we’re close. And I. I feel _something_ for you, but I don’t know if it’s love. Not yet. But it could be.”

“That’s okay.” Frank soothes, playing with the curls of Dave’s hair. “I feel the same way, I guess.”

“Then there’s nothing else to say about it. We’ll make it work, the three of us.” Dave smiles, closing his eyes. “Plus, we really have to sleep. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Frank sighs.

“Goodnight.”

They all fall asleep quickly in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arthur writes FLUFF


	10. You and I

Hal can’t always be there. He does return home in the morning, to see his sister. Dave does the same, calls in sick, and instead returns to his apartment to rest alone. As wonderful as sleeping together is it can be ever so slightly tiring. No sprawling legs, attempting to stifle snores in sleep, certainly no fairy lights to ward away the monsters. So he takes a nap, snores all he wants, and definitely makes a mess of the bedsheets. It’s nice to sleep unrestricted.

But he gets bored, and on his third cup of coffee he makes it to Frank’s, having just returned from his shift at the cafe. Frank chides him for skipping work but he understands. Dave’s fucking exhausted, and while not physically ill he certainly shouldn’t be toiling in a musical instrument store. 

He learns quickly what Hal gave Dave in the first place. Muted love, and barely-there traces of affection. The hard way, too. Dave does cuddle up but he doesn’t feel the same, he feels as if he constantly wants to get up and leave. Frank lets go and Dave bolts off as if he were a cat, to the kitchen. He stands, idly, and rubs his temples. Under the guise of wanting another coffee he follows Dave’s steps, turns on his machine and gives Dave a smile from across the room. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Things.”

“What things?”

“Like. How we going to have to want to make it work between the three of us.”

“Okay. Elaborate on that.” A subtle lowering of Frank’s brow indicates he is listening and comprehending.

“I’ve always, felt like. Hal, he’s got a certain innocence to him, and you, you haven’t. And like, I’m fine with that, it’s okay, but I need you to understand he’s. He’s a bit different.” Dave leans back against the counter, and folds his arms. His words are quick and far from nimble, but Frank’s still clearly paying attention to him.

Frank looks over and stirs his coffee. “I want to make this work, and you know his boundaries. I’ll respect them, whatever they are.” He speaks much slower than Dave, with much more clarity. As if it was thought out, and the more Dave considers it, it probably was.

“He’s... he’s not a child, for a start. Even though he kinda, looks like one. Y’know, his bunny backpack, and his mittens, and the little raincoat he wears. He just thinks they’re cute. But he’s still, he’s still really innocent at the same time but the backpack doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“What, like, hasn’t-had-the-talk innocent?” Frank sets a second cup underneath the machine, for Dave. He can’t brew it to be the tar Dave covets but he can certainly give him a caffeine fix. 

“No, no, he knows what sex is. Doesn’t really understand it, but he’s, aware of it? From what Sal has told me it’s a lot different for androids.” 

“Okay, then how do you mean?” 

“He’s. He’s gullible and easily mislead. Perhaps a little emotionally immature. But he’s not childish, there’s so much to him, he’s so thoughtful and intelligent, and he means the world to me.”

“Hey, I know he does. It’s fine. And I know what you mean, too, I’ll be careful with him.”

“It’s a strange kind of love, it’s not something I’ve ever felt in the past.” Dave shakes his head, and sips at his coffee. It very clearly hits a spot, he almost lets out a moan as he drinks. “It would just, it means a lot that you treat him the same way I do, especially if we are going to be a... thing.”

“I will, I promise.” Frank smiles, and puts a hand on Dave’s shoulder. His jaw, exposed to the air, practically begs to be kissed. Frank obliges, slides his coffee down on the worktop and feels his way across the taut skin with his mouth. Dave doesn’t recoil, but graciously lets him. 

It’s strange to let someone in like this, especially physically. Hal has never touched him like this. He hasn’t felt the sort of intimacy Frank gives him in years, not since his first boyfriend, or maybe even Betty. And it’s not the inherent sexuality of it that makes it so strange - put frankly, he’s used to that - but the feeling and meaning behind it. It’s being done out of some sort of care and affection, not just because it is something you do.

“Really, don’t worry about it. I want this to be good for all of us. Y’know, and if I’m ever, out of line with Hal, then you just tell me. Don’t even hesitate, you know him best.”

Dave smiles, somewhat bashfully. He does know Hal best. Slowly he raises an arm around Frank’s shoulder, and leans his head down against Frank’s chest. The beat of his heart soothes him, puts every other emotion to rest and replaces it with pure calm. Not quite the euphoria he feels while Hal holds him, but it works. It’s more than enough to make him happy.

Frank takes the hot mug of coffee from Dave’s hands and sets it down on the counter. He fits his arms around Dave’s hips and takes in the feeling of the man leaning against him. He makes sure he holds himself steadily upright, to keep Dave from topping over; Dave’s shifting his weight forwards as he grows more comfortable, but eventually he stops. Frank moves in for a kiss, and the moment their lips meet they fall back against the counter. Dave’s hands, holding on to the front of the counter to prevent him from falling, graze the mugs of coffee as Frank dips him down in to the kiss. Somewhere in the commotion he’s swept a hand up behind Dave’s neck. 

So maybe their love is a little more intense than the love between him and Hal. It is clearly much more intimate, much less innocent than the tiny kisses he presses to Hal’s cheeks and forehead. That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy it, as he feels Frank’s lips working his way down his bared neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorbter chapter this time my boys... love you all


	11. Popular

Dave grips the microphone as he sings passionately, the music playing from behind him. Same as it always does when they perform, but Dave sings with even more feeling than he normally does. He sings with the heart and soul he puts in to the men he so loves, and ignores those who look at him. It’s a truly strange feeling for him to be out of tune with those onlookers, the ones that put their hands on him. 

He is the heartthrob, the frontman, with his bared chest, dark greasepaint lipstick, big blue eyes, and thick chestnut curls. When he’s on stage he likes to think he’s the very definition of sexy. He certainly feels it. He leans over the front of the stage, he’s sure he feels someone touch him, and he barely even registers it as he continues to sing. He sings with the love he feels for Hal, instead, with the tenderness he puts in their goodnights.

This is a song about his brother, or at least part of that suite of events. There are a few that he’s written - hell, most of the songs he does write are about Bobby. At times the trauma defines him, as much as he hates to admit the fact it does so. This particular song deals with the death itself and his mother refusing to speak to him. Perhaps the comfort he once found in Betty permeates it, and how that meaningless sex shaped him. He finds it doesn’t hurt as much to sing about this anymore. His mind wanders to Bobby all too often but he feels a lot less tender over the wound.

It’s the last song in the set. His voice fades and the lights dim, and there is a round of applause. Cathartic. 

Backstage, Hal hugs him. They hug one another, really, and Dave kisses his forehead softly. He’s a little on edge, feeling a little cold, feeling depersonalised. Hal does a good job of bringing him back to it, with little whirrs and soft chirps. He’s still tired, and they go home to Dave’s apartment. A little unlived in as of late. They loiter for maybe an hour, settle down to cuddle on the couch, and fall asleep in one another’s arms. 

When Dave wakes up, Hal’s nearly finished making him breakfast. He sluggishly makes his way to the table to find Hal’s already laid out painkillers for his back and a tall mug of coffee. Boiling hot and tarry, just the way he likes it. He smiles as he slowly laps at it, and while it slithers down his throat it warms him to the core.

Breakfast is a stack of pancakes, slathered with butter and syrup, and bacon cooked to a crisp crumbled over the top. A labour of love is slid in front of him with a smile, and a tender cuddle. He kisses Hal’s cheeks before he can pull away and digs in to the fluffy stack.

When he’s sure Dave is properly awake, Hal sits at the chair next to him and rests his hands on the table. Dave’s still smiling like an idiot over the pancakes and coffee - just the sheer sweetness of the ordeal is enough to brighten his day, let alone the sweetness of the pancakes - but Hal has something important to tell him.

“I don’t think I said good morning, Dave.”

“Morning, baby.” Dave smiles as he mumbles. He doesn’t mean to speak so quietly, but he’s not quite there yet. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“I’m not sure.” Hal tilts his head as he thinks. 

“What would you prefer?”

“I don’t really know. I will think about it.”

“Okay.” Dave nods softly, in a little bobbing motion. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hal takes ahold of Dave’s free hand. “You look very tired.”

“I am. Last night really took it out of me.” He sighs. “But thank you for this, this is just... oh, it’s so nice. That you’d _do_ this for me.”

“You were very tired last night, and you sung your heart out. It was nice to hear you sing like that.”

“Yeah, I am. _Really_ feeling that now.” Dave massages his throat gently. It’s a little sore, and now he’s speaking louder his voice is a little hoarse. “How are you?”

“I’m just fine, Dave.”

“ _Just_ fine? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter.” Hal says quickly.

“That was a little defensive.”

“I am just thinking things over.” A little slower this time, seemingly deliberately so.

“Because I called you babe?”

“No. Frank called earlier, he said he needed to talk to us - I am simply thinking about what he might want to say to us. He did not elaborate.”

“Does he want Sal, too?”

“He really did not say much to me, Dave. Just that he wanted to talk to us, and that it was of the utmost importance.”

“Where are we meeting?”

“His house, at 1p.m. He wanted to give you time to wake up.” Hal smiles gently. “That means that we have a few hours together, to do as we please.”

“Good, good.”

••

They go to the park, and feed the ducks. Hal gets splashed a little, but he genuinely enjoys it. He also chases, picks up, and hugs a duck. When he shows Dave, he’s gobsmacked by the fact Hal even managed to catch it, or how peacefully the duck sits in his arms. They let the duck go before they leave, but not before Hal names it Pecky. ‘Because he’s pecky nice!’ Is his reasoning. It’s not the most fluent of puns but Dave melts again.

When they get to Frank’s, Sal is there and waiting on the couch. Frank is making coffee in the kitchen. When he notices Dave has appeared, he frantically starts making another cup.

“What have you two been doing?” Sal grumbles. 

“We went to the park, and I hugged a duck.” Hal chirps.

“Good to hear. Dad says he’s coming home for a bit tomorrow so you better be there.” She folds her arms. 

“You two have anything you need to talk about?” Dave tilts his head.

“Yes, actually. Dreamboat, could you leave?”

“Of course.” Dave nods, and joins Frank in the kitchen. 

“What’s going on, Sal?” Hal asks, genuinely curious as to what she might want from him. He sits across from her.

“You’re spending more time with those two than you are at home. If dad shows up out of the blue, what am I gonna do?” 

“As I have explained before, I will take the blame. I’m not going to stop, but I won’t have you in trouble. This is my decision, it always has been. It has nothing to do with you at all.”

“You have to promise you’ll stick by that, and I’ll leave you alone.” She shrugs. “But also know I’m not taking the blame if that is your stance on it. That’s precisely what I’m going to tell him.”

“I’m okay with that. I would rather be honest with him about it, I feel he would be more accepting of it if I was.”

His nonchalant response surprises her. He’s blank and open about it. He’s accepted the consequences of what he’s doing. He seems to understand how their father will feel about this, too. 

“So you’re going to tell him?”

“Maybe.” He leans back against the chair. “I think things have settled down enough for me to tell him about it, but I don’t want him to get the wrong impression about Dave.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to say it how it is.”

“Which is what I have been telling you I’ll do for the past three months.” Hal explains quietly. “I want to tell him about it. I feel I should, if I am honest.”

“You guys done yet?” Frank peeps through the kitchen door and asks rather politely. “This is. Important.”

“I’ve said all I have to say on the matter.” Hal smiles patiently, with just a hint of annoyance evident in his voice. He stands and cleans his lap off - despite there being nothing on it - then joins Dave in the kitchen.

Dave’s putting the finishing touches on his coffee. “What did you have to talk about?”

“Dad’s coming home tomorrow.” 

“Oh, right.” Dave stirs the coffee and takes the first sip. He sighs happily, his shoulders relax, his brows furrow. It looks a little as if the coffee made him drowsy.

“And I’m going to tell him about us.”

“You want me there?”

“One step at a time, Dave.” Hal laughs. “Finding out I have a boyfriend will be bad enough, meeting that boyfriend at the same time will give him a heart attack!”

“Aw, okay.” Dave smiles softly, and puts a hand on Hal’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses Dave on the cheek. “I’m going to go home tonight, of course.”

“Hey, that’s fine. Really don’t mind, you don’t wanna disappoint your dad.” Dave smiles, and squeezes the hand in his. “I think you’re a lot more pent up over this than I am.”

“Okay, maybe I am.” Hal giggles. “But it’s a big thing for him, you know that.”

“You could call me tonight before I sleep and we could talk about it, I could help you figure out what you’re going to do.”

“I’d like that.” 

“Both of you, in here, no more stalling!” Frank yells from the living room. Holding hands, Hal and Dave join Frank and Sal, and sit down together next to Sal. 

“What did you want to tell us?” Hal tilts his head.

“We’re um. We’ve been booked to play at a very popular bar in Boston. I got an email this morning and we had a conversation.” Frank folds his arms, and remains stood up.

“Holy _shit_.” Dave nearly stands from the couch. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m serious. Fuckin, _Boston_. Friday this week. Which means we are going on a road trip.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cliche. I love it.” Dave nods, smiling from ear to ear. Then it fades a little. “But it’s. A really long drive, and we can’t fly.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to leave Thursday morning. I’m gonna rent a van so we can get the costumes and instruments in there too, and it makes things easier for Hal too.” 

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way that we got noticed that far away. Unless we got scouted, but I didn’t see anyone.” Sal’s a lot more cynical about it, which Frank completely understands.

“Well it’s your doing, for a start. You put our songs on the internet and we got a bunch of hits, that’s where this guy comes in. He e-mailed me, I called him up with the bar’s number and he answered and we made arrangements. So it’s legit.” Frank explains, pacing halfway across the room. He turns back to face the couch. “Hal, you’re quiet, what do you think of that? Could you handle it?”

“I think so. I am not too sure.”

“It’s, roundabout an. Eighteen hour drive, or so? Me and Dave would take it in turns to drive, we’d leave at six in the morning, get there midnight. Guy’s gonna set us up with a hotel and stuff.”

“Are we playing for just one night? And are they paying us?” Sal wrinkles her nose.

“He said he’s gonna pay us, the money we get depends on admission for the night but at a base rate of about six hundred dollars each.”

“Six hundred dollars for one show?” Dave’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, and it can go up too. Up to like, a grand if we fill the club, apparently it’s fucking huge and very popular.”

“We need. The set to end all sets.” Sal jumps up from the couch and stares over the sheets on the table. “Like. Our demos and stuff, the new big dark shit. How long?”

“He said negotiable ‘cause he wants the best show possible but like. I would say an hour.”

“We have enough good shit for an hour.” She nods, biting on her lip. “Y’know what, I’m fuckin’ pumped.”

“Sal, can I talk to you?” Hal stands, and shepherds his sister in to the kitchen. He’s anxious and a little jumpy when she puts her hands on the sides of his arms to soothe him.

“You alright?” She pouts and pulls him close, holding him tightly. He struggles against her for a few moments but relaxes in to it when he realises he doesn’t have much choice. 

“Will dad let us go?” He asks quietly, burying his head in to her shoulder. “Being across the country is a big thing.”

“Having a boyfriend is a big thing and that has literally never stopped you.” She says, holding him a little tighter and rocking him. It’s not a dig, but a statement of facts. “Dad’s in Boston, anyway.”

“They’re very very different!” Hal protests. “It could be very dangerous in Boston. Dave is nice and I know that. Also, I thought dad was in New York.”

“No, he’s in Boston with Xion. I think he’s repairing them while he works on his study so he’s switched offices or something. It’s fine, Hal, and if we get in trouble we have dad there anyway.”

“I’m feeling very anxious about all of this.”

“You’ve got me and Dave, we’ll be with you. Promise. And obviously you’ll fuckin’ _kill_ it on stage, just like you always do.” She smiles, and ruffles at his hair. Dave enters the room and kisses Hal on the side of his head, then goes to make himself another coffee. “Hey Dreamboat, you just had one of those.”

“I gotta be up all night, I got a set to prepare, a Hal to comfort. There’s a lot to do.”

“Would you mind if I came over Monday morning?” Hal pulls away from Sal and puts a hand on the side of his arm.

“Of course you can.” Dave smiles, wrapping an arm around him. “But you’re still calling me tonight, right?”

“Yes, I will be!” 

“Good.”


	12. Chandra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oopsie I forgot to update sorry, it was my birthday yesterday so ummmm I was busy watching 2001 w my dad n eatin ice cream hehe anyway I luv this chapter do enjoy

He’s a man of few needs, but seeing his son and daughter are one of them. He hops from the taxi, pays the driver, walks down the path with his bag perched quite neatly over his shoulder and on his hip. Fumbles with the door, opens it quickly, and happily finds that the house is empty.

They are playing a trick on him.

He slouches down on the couch, switches on the TV, and pretends to ignore them. He catches Hal peeking over the kitchen island, the swish of light as he falls over on to the floor, and the inevitable clatter of Hal clumsily knocking something over. There’s a whimper. This is a cue to stand up, join, and comfort him.

He thinks this way - especially with Hal - because they’re both quite methodical in the way they act. Sal likes to pretend she isn’t, but Hal influences her more than she can admit. Hal has a few favourite routines for when he comes home. He might run towards his father and hug him, or hide, or make chocolate chip cookies. He doesn’t normally fall over (though he’s always been clumsy) but the whimper is the cue he has to follow.

He leans over the other side of the counter to see his son laying quite helplessly on the floor. “Good morning, Hal.”

“Good morning, dad.”

“Do you need some help?”

“Yes please.” Hal smiles sheepishly as Chandra picks him up off the ground. Hal wraps his arms around his father, tucks his head over his shoulder and makes a noise of contentment. “I have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Hal.”

Hal smells a lot different than he normally does. Like teenage boy aftershave, with a hint of butterscotch, and Chandra’s partially assaulted by it. He wonders for a moment where it might have come from, but chooses to bury it despite the confusion. It’s really quite obvious, and it’s hard to ignore the fact it’s there. He sighs deeply and lets go, though their hands stay linked as he sorts through his things and puts them away.

What’s worse is that Sal is nowhere to be found as he searches the house. A quick peep in every bedroom reveals she’s not hidden in plain sight, at least.

“What’s wrong?” Hal chirps, still holding on to his father’s hand. “You are much quieter than usual.”

“Everything just feels a little strange today.” Chandra furrows his brow. “Do you know where Sal is?”

“I do not know. I have not seen her today.”

That takes him aback. That is the strangest thing to have happened yet. Far worse than the fact his son smells like a teenage boy. She is both absent and her whereabouts are unknown. Sometimes she has been out when he returns, to pay the electricity bill, or to bring mail home, but the fact Hal doesn’t know where she is concerns him. 

Furthermore, Hal isn’t fazed by this. If he’s alone, he’ll be on edge when his father returns. He has always needed constant comfort. He is just fine, perhaps even a little confident. Something has happened and he doesn’t know about it.

“Alright, Hal. Is there something you would like to tell me?”

“There is a lot I can tell you. You haven’t been home in a while. Where would you like me to start?”

“Tell me everything that’s happened.”

“Well, I would like to start by telling you something that I deem very important. You may want to sit down.”

“How bad could this possibly be, Hal?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

Chandra sits down, and over the period of a few moments his face cycles through a few expressions. Incredulous surprise, then concern, and anger, but he replaces it with a blank look, with wide eyes, and looks up at his son. “Okay. Do you want to elaborate on that?“

“His name is Dave, he’s 28, he works in a music store, and we’ve been dating for two months now. We met three months before because I am in a band and he is the lead singer.”

“You’re in a band?”

“Yes! So is Sal. I am the guitarist and she is the drummer.”

“And where is your sister? Does this have anything to do with the band, or this boyfriend of yours?”

“No. She went out last night, and called to say she would be home late today. If you would like, I can invite Dave over and you can meet him.”

“Could you give me a moment to process this?” Chandra asks politely, and rests his head in his hands. He takes a while to really compute it, but he comes to a conclusion on the information he has received in his own time. “I am very happy for you, Hal. I am glad you have been able to overcome a lot in order to do this.”

“Thank you. I promise you that he is kind and very patient with me. We are very happy together.”

“Well, during the first two months you ought to be. It’s called the honeymoon period - you should sit down.”

Hal obliges, and perches on the edge of the couch like he normally does. Chandra attempts to give him some kind of basis, on what to expect in a relationship. What you can expect of another person. The fact that boundaries are a real thing and any prospective partner needs to respect them. He’s surprised that Hal has lived as long as he has without them ever really talking about this - yet he supposes its apt, because Hal’s never shown a real, rooted romantic interest in anyone before. He’s had his crushes, of course, and Chandra has known Hal’s gay for a while, as any good parent is ought to figure out, but it always seemed to be in a fantasying context. 

Thankfully, the boyfriend seems harmless, and perhaps even slightly beneficial. That’s quite strange for Chandra, really, because he’s not ready to let his son slip away from him. He wants to be able to tell Hal that his boyfriend’s not good for him, that he needs to break it off, stay analogous to his baby a little longer. But he can’t, because Hal chose well. For him to have become this mature in the few months they’ve been apart is jarring, but he’s still the same Hal. He’s just blossomed a little.

For Hal it’s a breath of fresh air. It’s relieving to know his father seems to accept this, despite how he’s skirted around the band aspect of it all. He seems to poke it gingerly and doesn’t understand it. Perhaps he wants to talk about that with Sal, who’ll have a better grip on explaining it. Still, he would give up being in the band if it meant being with Dave. If he was given an ultimatum on the two, that is, which he feels he might be despite the irrationality of it.

Chandra doesn’t really want to meet Dave. There doesn’t seem to be any telling off to do, no ‘you better not hurt my son’ or ‘whatever you do to him, I’ll do to you.’ He seems to be a decent guy, maybe a little emotionally stunted, definitely the type he would prefer to be near his son. Awkward, messy, latching on and unwilling to break a heart. If Hal brought him over there would be nothing to say, and it would quickly become awkward and uncomfortable watching them interact in a romantic capacity. Hal’s still his baby boy, he doesn’t want to see it.

He’s just wrapping his impromptu ‘talk’ up when Sal walks in through the door. She looks like shit - her hair is messed up, the safety pins that hold up her skirt are coming apart, bent wildly. She looks like she might fall apart at the seams, as she stumbles towards them and falls between them on to her knees. She emits a low whirr, similar to a groan.

“You look as if you’ve had yourself a wild night.” Hal chirps, helping lift her up off the couch. She does a lot of the heavier work herself, but he helps her where she needs it. Chandra finds it funny that someone so clumsy has to help someone else walk.

“...Shut up.” She mumbles, trying not to let Chandra hear. He does, and his head flicks in her direction. Hal ushers her in to her bedroom a little quicker, and helps her lay down on the bare bed. “Did you tell him about Dave?”

“Yes. He took it very well.” Hal looks back with a smile. He searches through the pile of clothes on the chair to find a blanket. “He was more worried for you, but you’re here now.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” She sighs as Hal tucks her in with a retrieved quilt. It wraps neatly around her body in to a tight, comfortable little nest. Hal clears off the bottom of her bed with his hand and sits there. “I don’t need a bedtime story.”

“No, but I want you to tell me what you did last night. I was afraid.”

“Fucked up party. And weren’t you calling Dave for half the night? Doesn’t he tell you he catches all the monsters in your closet for you or something?”

“I’ll admit we talked until early in the morning but you left at eight, and didn’t tell me where you were going. I was worried for you.” He shoves on her arm playfully, though accidentally knocks her in to the wall. She’s so jaded she hardly notices. “So, tell me.”

“As you said, I had a wild night. We should play at the venue, it’s great. They throw a lot of parties.”

Hal’s a little dissatisfied by the explanation, but with it comes the implication that it isn’t to be spoken of, especially in front of their father. A grave secret.

“Let’s focus on Boston first.”

“Did you tell him about Boston?”

“I was rather busy telling him about Dave.”

“You little shit.” She groans, turns and buries her head in to the pillow. “Alright, I’ll tell him later. Does he at least know about the band?”

“Yes, he knows about the band. For now, I think you should get some rest.”

He leaves the room and shuts the door until it clicks. If he doesn’t it’ll open, and she’ll complain about the light on her face. Chandra will then start complaining about the state of her room, and Hal is in a good mood today. Complaining is not something he wants to deal with.

••

Chandra is readying himself to leave the next morning when he notices Hal doing the same thing. Patiently folding and tucking away clothes in to his backpack, with a happy little smile on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To Dave’s house.”

”And you’re bringing clothes?” Chandra probes gently, though on the inside his heart is picking up. Staying together for a night is indicative of sex, which they didn’t discuss and Hal is _certainly_ not ready for. “You’re staying the night?”

“Yes. We’re probably going to watch TV until we fall asleep. And you know I never like wearing the same clothes two days in a row, and his clothes don’t fit me.”

“...Right.” Chandra nods. “So. Do you sleep over his very often?”

“Yes.”

There is a pause while Chandra looks away and thinks of a solution to his problem. If they are having sex, he knows he can’t stop it. The best he can do is make sure Dave is at least a decent person, and respects Hal’s boundaries, which he seems to. But he needs to be stared down, _taken_ down. Perhaps it is a little unfair to the guy that all of Chandra’s protective instincts (which are worse for Hal) are in full swing.

“Why don’t I bring you there, before I have to leave?” He clips up his suitcase and helps Hal button his red raincoat up. He looks a little like a strawberry.

“If you would like to, I would enjoy that very much.” Hal’s cheeks light up in to a smile, and his little dimples appear under the crescent. He slips the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “When will you be coming home again?”

“I don’t know, Hal. I’ve been very busy.” Chandra explains with a sigh, and adjusts the straps to be a little more comfortable. “But I’ll try and visit soon, I do love you and Sal a lot.”

The ride there is quite quiet as Chandra thinks fo what he’ll say to Hal’s boyfriend when they meet. He doesn’t want to seem too threatening but he certainly doesn’t want to sound friendly. He wants to be respected and understood - in a way, he wants to assert that he is the one _allowing_ him to date Hal. Which is strange, because Hal is his own person and in most respects on par with an adult. He could move out tomorrow and Chandra wouldn’t be able to stop him. He grinds his teeth as Hal kicks his legs up and down happily.

“Will you be staying for long?”

“I’ll stay as long as I can, Hal. I have a flight to catch, but I’d like to make sure you’re there safe... will you be staying with him while Sal’s in Boston?” He adds the last part rather anxiously.

“Oh, I am going to Boston too. Did she not tell you? It’s the whole band.”

A weight practically flies from Chandra’s chest as he hears those words, and he sighs a deep calm in to the car. “You could come see me, if you wanted. I’m normally free at lunchtimes, and I always enjoy spending time with you.”

“I am rather scared about it. It is a long drive to a very far away city.”

“That’s very much understandable. But I _will_ be there for you, Hal, I always am.” Chandra gives him a reassuring half smile. “If you wanted to bring your boyfriend along, I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I think I’d like an opportunity to meet him properly, I haven’t exactly got the time to now.” 

“Of course. I would also like it if you two could meet one another.”

“I know a nice restaurant, I went there once. I’ll meet him then, is that alright with you?”

“Yes, dad.”


	13. Boston

The drive is long and arduous. Hal squeals, Sal retreats to a corner, and at one point Dave gives up entirely and plants himself on the floor of the van, using his clothes and a less-than-cuddly Hal as a comforter. Still, Frank is determined to drive the whole seventeen hours with one forty-five minute stop. (And he only made it because Hal was going to start screaming _properly_ if he didn’t.)

Yet they make it there, and midnight rolls around soon after they check in to the hotel. A decent four stars, with big double beds and fresh linen. Frank heads straight for the shower and passes out on the first bed he comes across. Initially, he lays diagonally and takes up the whole bed. Dave tenderly moves him to the centre and tucks him in. He can practically hear the relief escaping from Frank’s lips as he does, and leaves him with a kiss on the forehead to tend to Hal.

Hal doesn’t want to be touched, but he ironically seeks comfort through Dave, and sits in his lap on the second bed, quiet and unmoving. He _demands_ to not be touched but eventually leans back against Dave’s chest, and falls asleep there after a while of sullen silence and adorable sulking. Sal watches as Dave tucks him in gingerly, as to not disturb his well-deserved sleep, but definitely with a certain amount of care and love. He whispers something to Hal, though she can’t make it out, and he doles out a kiss for a chubby cheek and sweeps the hair from Hal’s face. He lays down amicably just next to him, barely touching - but they don’t have to in order to feel loved.

Sal takes the couch and wraps herself up in a blanket tightly, but as she notices Dave can’t sleep she stands and helps him out on to the balcony. He walks himself but he definitely needs the nudge. He sits on the bare concrete criss cross, hunched over, and casts leering eyes over the brown city before him. He feels like he’s at the very top of the city despite the ten floors of hotel rooms stacked above him. 

“I meet your dad tomorrow.” He chews on his lip and speaks quietly in the hopes nobody else will hear. “I pray to fucking god he’ll like me.”

“Hard to do.” She grunts, leaning against the door with a small bottle in her hand. 

She struggles for a moment to pull the sliding door shut and sits down next to him, offering him the tiny vodka in her hands. He has no clue where she got it, but he takes it anyway and takes a swig of it, only to choke and splutter at just how strong it is. It’s somewhere between swallowing acid and swallowing concentrated flavouring; horribly bitter and immensely warm down his gullet. He paws at his tongue to stop the feeling as her whole face contorts in to a loud, chortling laugh. She shows him a cola can in her other hand.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Dave!” She forces out between chortles, and hands him the can. He drinks some to clear his palate and then tips the remainder of the tiny bottle in to the can, shakes it a little and drinks. Much better. “Yeah, that’s how you’re supposed to drink it.”

“Well you didn’t really give me the can straight away.”

“I’m starting to think you might be an alcoholic.”

“But like, your dad. How do I impress him?”

“Be nice to Hal, that’s about it. Don’t like, try and impress him, he’ll know you‘re doing it.” She explains, as Dave sips at the can in his hands. “Thing is, Hal is. Very very precious to him, because he’s always been the baby out of the three of us. You basically chose the wrong one to date, ‘cause dad is extra protective of him.”

“I wanna make a good impression. I’m super fuckin’ anxious over it, I love Hal more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it’d kill me if your dad didn’t like me, it really would.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be massively fucking hungover when you meet him.”

“One vodka and coke won’t get me drunk. I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

“Really, mister hundred-and-forty pounds?”

“Shut up!” Dave swipes at her, laughing. He sets the can down by his side. “Maybe you’re right, I’m gonna go. Hug your brother. Thanks for the drink, though.”

“Frank’ll drink it in the morning if I stick it in the minifridge and ‘decant’ it.” She shrugs. “And hey, if it helped you, I’m cool with it.”

“Thanks.” He lends her a grateful smile and draws his knees up to his chest for a moment. 

“Oh, uh. I think I forgot to say at some point that if you ever do hurt Hal, I have a crowbar, a sock with a brick in it, and a baseball bat with some nails hammered in. They’re mostly for show but I do know how to smack someone in to next Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I got that impression. I don’t plan on hurting him, just so you know, I. I love him a lot.” 

“I gathered. But if he comes home crying to me one day I won’t even hesitate.” There’s a playful tone in threatening words and Dave picks up on it well, despite the exhaustion that’s settling deep in his body. “Go to bed. Hal will be all lonely without you, I don’t want him writing yearny love songs in his sleep.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Dave laughs as he stumbles on to his aching feet. He offers Sal a hand to help her up off the floor, and she clears up as he wanders through to the hotel room.

Hal’s sleeping soundly in the bed, soft chubby cheek pressed up against the pillow, a dimple visible under the pressure. He looks comfortable there, in Dave’s clothes. There is space next to him, begging to be filled. Dave fills it cautiously, wrapping his arms around his warm boyfriend. Hal mumbles something and it’s not clear at all, but Dave chirps a soft goodnight in response. 

He falls asleep easily.

••

“So you were going to be an astrophysicist? Why did you stop? Even from a brief conversation, I can tell you’re a bright man.”

“Erm. Depression, really. I was nineteen when I dropped out.” Dave clasps his hands together on the table. He wishes Hal had stayed, but he went to see Xion instead. Dave can’t blame him, he was nervous and jittery, he feels a lot better now that he knows Hal’s safe and feeling alright. “It’s my biggest regret.”

Dave hasn’t felt this anxious in years, but he’s biting the insides of his cheeks and straining his calves tight. Chandra’s not a particularly intimidating man, either. He’s short and quite cute, all things considered. Big curly hair - not unlike Sal’s, but a longer and a deep brown in colour, tied behind his head by Hal with a scrunchie - bitten lips and dark skin. He looks like his kids, not just in aesthetic but in the way he carries himself, the way he smiles, frowns, raises his eyebrows by a minute amount when he is surprised. What surprises Dave the most is that Chandra, like his son, has the tiniest inhuman quality in the way he acts.

“You’d go back to school if you could?”

“In a heartbeat, absolutely.” Dave is desperate to change the subject from his own shortcomings. “What about yourself? I know you’re in Machine Learning, of course.”

“I am a doctor of computer science and machine learning, heading a study on homebrewed android behaviour. Hal is a part of it, of course, or at least he was when it began. He exhibits the very traits we’re researching.”

“What would those be?”

“According to industry, homebrew androids tend to be more immature, clumsy, and generally scatterbrained. Hal does check all three of those boxes, but Sal and Xion don’t. In essence we’re trying to prove that it is a minority... and minority or not, I think it’s a good thing. It’s what makes Hal himself.”

Dave nods quickly. “I have to agree with you. Why does industry say that?”

“Well, I’ve always felt it was to discredit homebrewed androids. It can’t be a legal thing - I paid for the body and circuitry, I simply built the minds. It’s not against the law. They do the same with false statistics about crime in homebrew androids - its just as high in both. I try not to let it spill in to my work, but I am an advocate for the rights of AI.” 

“It has always disgusted me how androids are treated subpar to humans. When I look at Hal, there is nothing different about him. I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Xion and Sal have never trusted humans.” Chandra admits. “Only me, and they seem to like you, too - Sal says you’re not too bad which I didn’t expect. I’m glad that Hal has found someone he can trust.”

Dave nods and chirps in response. He sips at his coffee. It’s a not as thick or strong as he likes it but it’s helping him perk up for sure. He’s tried not to drink too much in the fear of getting a stomachache but he’s on his second or third cup. Chandra’s doing the same. They sit in a mutual silence as Dave thinks of what to say.

“Is there anything you want me to know about Hal?”

"You seem to be doing very well with him. You're respectful of him and his boundaries, and of course that's all I could ever want for my son."

Dave's starting to notice, really, who Chandra is as a person. Before they started talking about androids, he was the grunting type. Even though he spoke in full sentences, they were nearly monosyllabic in the way he carried them, in the way he showed himself to the world. Yet now he moves and speaks so freely, as if a part of himself was unlocked and exposed to the world. Knowing their prioties lay in the same place puts Dave at an immeasurable ease about this whole thing. He doesn't feel like he's going to fuck it all up as much as he was sure he was going to mere minutes prior.

"Well if there's ever anything you notice I'm doing wrong, I want you to tell me." Dave's scared to admit this. He's not all too sure if he wants this little doctor knowing he's not confident in love at all, but Chandra nods knowingly.

"Rest assured, I will." He affirms, much more confidently than he should. He might even work a smug smile in to it.

Even if Dave's shit-scared of the man in front of him, he's glad Hal has such a supportive and loving family. He can certainly see where Sal gets her intimidating air from. 

"What made you start a band?" Chandra asks, though it's much more a command than a question. 

Dave gives him answers to questions he didn't know the answers to. He has to construct them on the fly and he feels like he's meandering a little, but he knows Chandra's testing him for that very thing. A test of mental strength, of wit, smarts, problem solving. It feels a little like a compatibility test. Like Chandra is probing to see if their relationship will stand the test of time or sweep away over time. For a doctor of machine learning, he certainly makes an excellent psychologist. Dave's worried he might start asking _how all this makes him feel._

He hopes Chandra thinks he's a good fit for his son. He's nervous about it and he knows Chandra picks up on it, he drops these little hints that he has the power. That he's the one pulling the strings here. He can feel what Chandra's thinking, or at least, something analoguous to it. It's a friendly conversation but it's got undertones hard to ignore - though maybe Dave's just overthinking it a little too much in the hopes he can impress Hal's dad. Win Hal's heart forever by extention because he'll know he can trust Dave. Dave knows he's not being manipulated by Chandra, for sure, but he can tell when he's being deeply analysed. He's a little angry about that too, seeing as Chandra, well, lured him in to a false sense of security and brought out the proverbial big guns. But he gets it. Hal means a lot to Chandra.

Still, it's an enjoyable conversation. It really is. They're both smart men, and Dave realises he keeps up with current news in science much more than he possibly would. The Discovery Incident is something they find themselves discussing. It's funny, really, because they both have a strange little foot in it. Dave, had he continued with his astrophysics degree and astronaut training, would have very much been eligible for that mission. What was even more bewildering, however, was the fact that Chandra could have been forced to send Hal aboard the Discovery. The revelation that their paths could have crossed - even if their lives had taken drastic turns - dredges truly strange feelings up in Dave's chest. He can't help but feel like Hal might have been his soulmate, this whole time.

Dave walks Chandra back to his office, where Hal and Xion are playing chess together. Hal's sat criss-cross on the floor, while Xion kneels. Not wanting to disturb them, their conversation continues just outside the door. Dave can tell Chandra's getting a little tired of it (as Hal does after talking for a while, he notices) but Chandra also seems to enjoy the company. It's a strange juxtaposition, but he tries to distance himself a little as Hal and Xion wrap their game up. It gets quite intense, but Hal wins and takes it quite graciously. Dave gets lost in his twinkling eyes and adorable dimples, but tears himself away when he finds Chandra is side-eyeing him. _Thin ice_ , his eyes say. Dave laughs more than he should.

Hal holds his hand tightly as they walk through the cobblestone streets, trying to avoid crowds. "How did it go?"

"I _think_ it went well." Dave tilts his head toards something that catches his eye for a moment. "He's really hard to read."

"Dad seemed happy by the end of it, he didn't say anything to me - I think that is a good sign!" Hal enthuses, flapping his free hand wildly. "I'm very glad it went well. I've been worried for days."

Dave cups Hal's cheek in his hands. "You should've told me. I'd have looked after you."

"That's what you do all the time." Hal’s eyes widen, and he pouts a little. Dave _melts_ under those fluttering doe eyes. “You do, don’t you?” 

Deliberately playing, trying to elicit a reaction. It works, it works so goddamn well.

“Yes, of course I look after you!” He smiles softly, and kisses Hal on the cheek. 

They continue on their way.

••

This is the most packed club they’ve ever played in, and Dave can feel the rush of performing heightening with every moment he sings. He feels like a god, definitely a sweaty god. It drips down his chin, and slicks his hair against his head. He grips the microphone right, holds it close to his mouth, so there’s an air of passion and urgency about him. It’s certainly a calculated act on his behalf, but the crowd eats it up, cheering for him and trying to touch him as he veers just over the stage. 

Even though he’s being looked at, and objectified, and _touched_ , he doesn’t feel like any of those things are happening. The thought of Hal drives him - which he finds funny, the fact that he thinks of monogamous commitments to be the opposite in the eyes of his dutiful watchers.

The song finishes, and someone throws twenty dollars at him. Without thinking he whips his jacket off and exposes himself. It’s met with a bellowing cheer from around the room, and someone else throws another twenty dollars. He picks it up and addresses the audience.

“I’d put this in my bra, but I’m not wearing one.” Is received extremely well. The club’s practically caught in uproar.

“Take your pants off!” Some smart-ass in the audience yells at him through the laughter.

“I would, but I’m wearing undies with little spaceships on them and I kinda wanna keep my dignity.” Another roar of laughter - someone throws a lacy red bra at him. He catches it by the strap and holds it out at arms length. “You really think this’ll fit me? Way too small.”

He leans over the front of the stage and hands it back gingerly. After regaining his stance he looks back to see Hal’s only taking the shyest of peeps at his boyfriend. He thinks it’s adorable, and he motions to Frank to start playing again. They get on with the show.

••

The three of them lay together again. Frank lays behind Dave and cuddles from behind, whereas Hal is held from the front. Idly, Dave runs his hands through Hal’s hair, and occasionally plants tiny kisses on his forehead. Hal’s not sleeping even though he lays docile. It _worries_ Dave, it really does. 

Frank stands up, leaving Dave with a kiss behind the ear. He whispers he’s going in the shower and disappears, leaving Hal and Dave alone together. In bed, cuddling, where it’s warm and safe. Dave draws a thin but heavy blanket up around Hal’s shoulders and tucks a stray stuffed animal in to his arms. A polar bear. Hal cuddles it readily, and buries his nose in to the bear’s fur. Sniffling.

“What does he smell like?” Dave mumbles just above the hum of the shower, with a little smile on his face. 

“Baby powder.” Hal cheeps. He speaks quietly and closes his eye, and dims his lens. “I like the way baby powder smells. I find it very comforting.”

“It is.” Dave takes a deep breath in, and pulls the blanket around himself. “You wanna spoon?”

“Yes.” Hal’s voice is barely audible above the fur of his little friend. He rolls over and faces the rest of the room. Dave pulls Hal in to his arms, and hooks his head over his shoulder. “I like this very much, Dave.”

“I know you do.”

“I appreciate how you care for me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like sleeping here. I want to go home, and cuddle in our bed. I’m sorry.”

“I can understand that. It’s a new place. You don’t have to like it. But I’m here, and I’ll look after you.”

Hal's affirmation comes as a happy little chirp, released in to the very depths of his fluffy friend. He lays back in to Dave's body, leans against him, allows Dave to press his lips against his neck. A surprising show of vulnerability for him, but Dave supposes Hal's already vulnerable just being here. 

"What's his name?"

"Seltzer." Hal smiles. "He's new."

"Why'd you bring him?"

"I like him. He's fluffy."

"Yeah, I can tell by how muffled your voice is." Dave chuckles, a little louder than the shower. He swears he can hear Frank singing to himself. "You wanna sleep now?"

"I'm not very tired. I would like to wait until Sal comes back, at the very least."

"You know where she went?" 

"No, but I know she is not with Xion or our dad. It is my place to worry."

"Oh no." Dave pouts. "Okay, I'll keep you entertained, if that's the right word - did you enjoy playing tonight?"

"Yes. I liked that bit where you took your shirt off. I found it very funny."

"You looked all bashful when you saw my chest."

"Well, you _were_ partially naked. I suppose it was a little risque, which was the point... I do not handle well in such situations."

"It was cute. My actual boyfriend was shy whereas fifty guys wouldn't take their eyes off me."

Hal giggles at that, and settles in with his polar bear. He takes a deep breath of it in, as Dave does with him. It feels a little like a pyramid of cuddles. Frank comes back in to the room, mostly naked and covered only by a little towel. 

"Feeling better?" Dave looks up at Frank through his lashes. "You look it."

"Oh, yeah. I do, much, much better. Heaps. Tons." He points at Hal, who's closed his eye. "Asleep?"

"No, not at all. He'll sleep when Sal's back."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I get that."

"You know where she went?"

"Last seen with a gaggle of other goth girls." Frank shrugs with a laugh. "Sorry, Hal, think she's found a new home."

Hal partially opens his eye. "She would not leave me. Dad would kill her."

"Yeah, he would." Dave nods, wide eyed. "Though I think he would kill a lot of people for your sake, Hal."

"Oh, yeah, you met him today." Frank sits down on the bed opposite. He'd lay down with them, but he wants time to dry himself off. "How'd it go?"

"I'd like to think it went well, but he's a goddamn enigma at best." Dave shrugs. "It's like, he is constantly psychoanalysing. And he knows he's doing it, too."

"You said you liked him." Hal lets out a scandalous little whirr. 

"Thing is - I do! I loved talking with him! He seems like a really great guy and a good dad but I _know_ he was tearing me down in to building blocks using every word I said as a pickaxe!" 

"He's one of _those_." Frank groans. “You guys wanna cuddle?”

“I’m worried about Sal.”

“I can call her for you.” Frank smiles, and lifts himself off the bed to find his phone. He takes a moment to dial her and stands in the corner to ring her. 

“Do you think she’ll answer?” Hal says nervously, toying with the fur of his polar bear for comfort. It’s got very long arms, Dave assumes it’s intended to be a baby. It’s eyes are certainly big and twinkly enough.

“I’m not sure, Hal. I hope she will.” Dave sits up and takes the polar bear from Hal’s arms. He taps at Hal with the animal’s floppy paws, pressing at his nose and cheeks to the point Hal can’t be angry at him. Frank strays out to the balcony with his phone in his hand. He leans over the railing. “What can I do to help you?”

“I’m not sure.” Hal sits up in bed and takes his toy back. 

He scratches at his neck a little, and gets out of bed to pace up and down the the room. On edge, but nothing Dave can do will comfort him. The only thing that can comfort him is the return of Sal, or the affirmation that she's at the very least alright. Frank stuffs himself in to a shirt and leaves without saying a word. Hal stops by the door to quiver in Dave's arms, losing his sense of self as he is hugged. He doesn't cuddle back. Dave sets him down to bed with the teddy bear, but Hal doesn't sleep until Frank wrangles Sal in an hour and a half later. The rest is well deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i actually own seltzer hehe


	14. The Insomniac Trials

The next months are spent in a haze of progress. The members of Discovery One wake up, attend to their respective jobs, then meet at Frank's house and write music until they're ready to pass out. But at the end of it all they have an album to show for it - The Insomniac Trials - fourteen songs about all sorts of things. Dave's trauma, Hal being in love, Sal vying for acceptance, Frank struggling with his feelings. It's not a hit, and none of their music really is, but it goes down well with the audience they're starting to have. Very well. 

They're also starting to make a lot of money. They're starting to pull gigs of their own, not just at clubs but at real venues where the audience isn't captive. Selling CDs, too, a little operation Frank's drafted up of his own accord. There’s a particular taste for them online, where Frank’s selling quite a bit. Every now and then, he has Dave and Hal manage the CD burning process. Once, they even make a hundred copies in a night and sell them all in three days. 

They are on top of the world. Unstoppable, rising through the ranks. A _real_ band with a real audience. Someone even drew fanart of them - Dave’s absolutely weak over it, he nearly cries because it’s too kind. People love them, and he loves being loved. He loves _life_. For the first time since Bobby died, he’s happy. It’s different from the last time he was really happy - like starting T and staring at his stubble in the mirror, obsessed and smiling like an idiot - there is no sense of dread. There is no pit deep within his stomach of something to worry about. His life is the best it’s ever been.

He has two loving boyfriends, he’s in a rock band, he’s paying his bills on time. He’s sleeping soundly in his bed with his boyfriends. Eating breakfast in the morning, showing up to work with a smile, making an effort to drink less coffee (for Hal’s sake, because he gets worried and as cute as he is Dave hates seeing it), going to bed at a decent time, showering regularly, shaving. He has his days but seeing himself so happy is wonderful. He looks in the mirror and he sees the man he’s always wanted to be.

Then Dave is evicted from his apartment.

He holds the letter in his hands, barely able to read as they shake. He leans his head against the door, and stifles his tears for Frank, who diverged to help an old lady lug her laundry down the stairs. He’s paid his rent, he knows he has. He’s not being loud. He’s even stopped crying himself to sleep on bad nights.

“What have you got there?” Frank peeks over his shoulder. He barely glances at the lettering on the top of the sheet before knowing it’s bad news. “ _Shit_.”

“I. I don’t know what I did.”

“You don’t even need to worry. You’re coming to stay with me, my landlord is way fuckin’ nicer.”

“I paid! I don’t get it, I paid _early_ ‘cause I was scared I’d forget, and I’m not as loud as I used to be, I mean, maybe it’s. Because I was singing in the shower, or maybe, it’s-“

Frank shushes him and pulls him in to a tight hug. “We’re just gonna move in together and that’ll be that. No questions asked, but like. Do you want me to go interrogate your landlord?”

“No, let’s just. Get on with it.”

Dave moves in with Frank and at first it’s strange to live in close proximity to someone. He can’t go hide like he normally can, though he takes to taking long showers on his own when he needs time to himself. It’s still nice to do couple things they couldn’t do often before. Cuddling up on the couch, sneaking kisses, boning in the shower. Doing as couples do, and it’s admittedly nice to have that kind of close relationship with someone when they’re alone. Being physically intimate with one another is something they have both craved for a while. Frank likes sharing parts of himself with Dave, as Dave does him.

Dave didn’t expect to feel so at home with Frank. He wants to live with Hal, but it’s not an option. Besides, Hal does come over to write music and cuddle. They’re as in love as ever.

Dave experiences two very different types of love simultaneously. He has Hal - soft, warm, safe love. Purely romantic love. There‘s nothing sexual between them. With Frank it’s different. There is a lot of sex involved (Frank writes a song about it, which Dave thinks is funny), or at least intimacy with sexual connotations. Of course they love one another. It’s hard not to. But watching the juxtaposition is very strange for Dave. Feelings he’s never felt, and feelings he hasn’t felt in a very long time, broil in his chest in a simmering pot. He decides he likes the feeling.

••

Moving in to a new home - a big condo in town, with a real, dedicated studio - feels inevitable, and Hal is given permission to spend most of his time there too. He has to check in with Sal and Chandra bi-weekly, but all the same he carts a few of his stuffed animals over. There’s a new bed, too, a California King, so none of the stuffed animals are knocked out of the bed when they sleep piled together like puppies. Boyfriends. _Boyfriends_ feels good on Hal’s tongue, makes him chirp with excitement whenever he remembers it.

Dave’s birthday comes and goes, and they don’t make a big fuss over it, but Frank surprises him with a baby grand in the studio. Hal sits in the studio with him for hours, listening to Dave thumb his way through page upon page of sheet music, getting a feel for the delicate ivory keys, playing with passion and reverence. So graceful, so nimble. Deft, agile. So many words to describe how he plays. He keeps the softest expression upon his face, fingers the keys masterfully without breaking a sweat. His curls fall just over his eyes but it does not bother him. Against the light of the sun breaking through the room, his eyes are as blue as ever. 

Dave adores his baby grand. He spends all his free time playing endless music, becomes lost and ever so obsessed with the way it sounds, and the love that brought it in to his life. Him and Hal start writing again. Instrumentals played in tandem - not too different to the way Corvid is played - but of a folk twang. It's the lightest thing they've ever written, but they make it quite clear it's a labor of love. It isn't for the band, but for their own enjoyment. Knowing this, Frank listens to them as they develop it eagerly. 

He doesn't have the urge to write a new album, but he doesn't feel like he's exhausted his creative juices. Instead, he has the feeling he should let them sit for a while, so they can return to writing refreshed. Ready to make the best thing they possibly can, which after thought is what he would much rather have them do. Besides, he has a lot to focus on, and think about. He's contacting, and networking, trying to grow their audience. He has things planned, and is carefully manipulating the situation to the best of his ability. What he's currently focusing on is festivals, and they're lined up to play a few. Not headlining, but playing at them is help enough. He gets offers, too, from organisers, and of course the ever steady stream of clubs and larger parties that want them playing. They headline smaller concerts now. It starts adding up, it starts becoming a heavy and messy schedule of performing. Three times a week at the very least.

Dave sits at the piano, and he drills The Insomniac Trials until it is a matter of muscle memory. It's his job, really, to sit and play when he is alone. He sings. He is alone, and he slinks his fingers across the keyboard repetitively. He feels the music within his entire body, but he still lives in a haze as he does it. Still he finds he makes mistakes as he goes deeper and deeper, and he pulls himself away to take a break. To eat and replenish himself.

He pads cautiously through his new home where he is alone. The sunset shines through the window, and he chides himself for not eating at lunch. If Hal or Frank knew, they might be mad. He laces his fingers together tightly, bending them over one another with an iron grip. He certainly pulls them apart as if he is separating pieces of welded metal, and transfers the grip to a cooking something for Frank. By doing so, he knows he'll eat himself.

Frank walks in when he's dicing a potato, and holds Dave from behind as he drops the knife on the plastic cutting board with a thud.

"Good evening, cutie." The orange sun is well advancing to cold grey dusk. "What are you making?"

"Homefries." Dave raises a hand around to the side of Frank's hair and runs his hands through the short black fibers. He kisses Frank's cheek, breaking away with the sound being the only thing echoing in the room. 

Frank detects a certain tiredness in his voice. Not to say that he is tired, but there is something weighing him down quite badly. He wraps his arms around Dave a little tighter, lays his palms flat across Dave's midriff. Dave sighs deep in to his embrace; his whole body falls slack the more Frank cups his body around him. 

"What's wrong?" Frank soothes. 

"I'm just having a bad day, I suppose, I spent all day playing and I'm just a little out of it."

"You're definitely practicing too much, you're already perfect at it... why don't you work on that little experimental thing with Hal?" 

"I'm scared I'll. Fuck it up."

"You won't. I want you to work on that thing with Hal again.” 

“No, no. I have a commitment.”

Frank frowns softly. “If you need me, I’m here.”

“I know. I know, and I love you.”


	15. The Future And The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey fam sum sexual stuff in this chapter no smut just sex jokes n similar stuff. dave hoeman amirite.

Dave stands in front of his audience with his jacket off, his chest vulnerable and on show, and sings his heart out. The power that he feels growing in what once was a pit in his stomach spills out through his mouth, and all over the club. The lights that shine upon him shift from red to purple as he hits the highest note he can - his chest is so strained that he hits the ground running as he’s thrown in to it. He hits it perfectly, and the crowd cheers with excitement. 

The song ends and the lights make a dramatic shift to blue. He turns away from the microphone and sighs out, fits his hands on his hips and regains some lost energy while he waits for the crowd to calm down. 

“So like, that song is about a guy I dated when I was about eighteen or nineteen. See like, I was dating this girl, and I found out she was cheating on me with this guy, so I cornered him at a New Years party and kissed him until he decided to date me. In front of her.” A general chittering of laughter from the audience lets him know he can continue. “He was a good guy but I think he has kids or something now. With my ex girlfriend if I’m not mistaken. Personally-victimised-by-Dave-allegiance.”

That hurts a lot more than he lets on. He was the first man Dave loved, especially after crawling from Betty’s grasp. José Fernandez was a sloppy rebound but he was soft and he held Dave tightly, kissed the side of his neck, helped to cut and keep his hair short. It lasted a few months before Dave went off to college. He didn’t want to be cheated on again. By the time he’d gotten back less than three months later he was disgusted to see José and Betty had hooked up and they had a kid on the way. It took him a while to cry that one off.

More laughter, which helps him mask the brewing discomfort of the memory. “That’s gotta hurt!” “Oof!” “What a bitch!”

“I don’t really mind, to be honest. It could be worse, she could still be fucking my brother.” He shrugs. “Anyway, this next song is about said dead brother.”

••

“So this record company guy, he just started taking his pants off after I gave him a drink. Like, please. You’re forty.” A roar of laughter fills the tent around him, as he nods quietly. “I mean. I might have fucked him, and in the event that I did I want you all to know that he had a limp dick and we spent about ten minutes trying to get it up. Can I say that? I’m not on TV or anything, am I?”

The tent’s jam-packed with doped-up festival goers. He’s pretty sure there’s an agent or two in the crowd, but after the debacle with the record guy, he definitely doesn’t want to sign. It is a real story - though maybe a little enhanced - and even Hal laughs at it. He’s hidden behind his guitar, his cheeks lit up red, his sweater big and made of cashmere. He was there when it happened but he wasn’t watching for the limp-dick bit. He caught the tail end of a very disgruntled Dave coming out the bedroom for some water and decided to keep quiet about it.

“I’m not a slut, I promise. I’m just a very motivated guy, I get what I want.”

“I’ll fuck you!” Someone in the crowd yells.

“Hang on, let me get a better look at you.” He fights his way to the front of the crowd - the spotlight shines on him, which is a nice touch - and Dave turns his nose up. “Yeah, no, I don’t think so.”

The crowd goes wild, and the guy looks around partially embarrassed and partially enjoying the joke, even if it’s at his expense. 

“Don’t feel bad, I’m just picky.” He explains, much to the delight of the audience. “I’m not starving, I promise.”

Being sexualised actually feels nice in this context. It’s freeing, because he controls it. If he doesn’t want to talk about a guy he banged on stage then he doesn’t have to, and he quite enjoys that fact. If he had given in to the limp-dick-record-guy and sold his soul then he might not have that much freedom. He’s glad, because he wasn’t even that good at sex. Kept trying to grab nonexistent tits.

“How much for you to take your shirt off?” Someone shouts through the crowd.

“I’ll do it for twenty dollars.” He responds succinctly. 

It works, and twenty dollars makes its way to his feet. He makes a show of slowly undoing his jacket, exposing his chest and pulling it off while leaning over the stage. People in the front row try and touch him, try and grasp at him, but he taunts them.

“Touch with your eyes!” He proclaims with a little pouty face. He knows that people are doing a lot more than touching him with their eyes; undressing him; taking him to bed.

Sex symbol. He’s a goddamn sex symbol.

••

It’s hard to sleep with the buzz in his chest, and not even Hal can fix that. Weakly he sits himself up against the headboard - they’re in Hal’s bedroom because Chandra’s home - and massages his temples. Hal moves up with him and strokes his clothed chest softly, with a quiet smile his hand moves up to the side of his face. 

“What’s the matter? Are you finding it hard to sleep, Dave?”

“No, of course not. I’m just fine.”

“You don’t look it. Your eyes are getting dark circles. Would tea help you?”

“Hey, hey, quit worrying.” Dave kisses Hal on the head, taking in the warm, familiar scent of powdered silicone and hair the colour of milk. 

He can’t help but want Hal to surround his whole body, to wrap him in a cocoon of comfort. He’d drift off to sleep so easily if all he could smell was the powder on Hal’s skin, and the scent of overworked processors, and all he could hear was his hydraulic heartbeat that thumped mercilessly inside his chest. To love and to be loved with their entireties. All he can focus on is how much he _wants_ a man already laid in his arms, but the want swallows his whole body.

“I love you, Hal.”

“I love you too, Dave.”

He cranes his head to kiss Hal’s lips. When they join, they’re so soft against his, so perfectly formed, plump as pillows with the sweetest little shape - a Cupid’s bow that draws perfectly in to a heart in the middle. He can’t put in to words just how much he loves kissing Hal, or being any sort of intimate with him.

Hal loves him, too. His soft little Dave, so willing to dish out hugs and kisses that he sometimes forgets to fall asleep. Like a beacon of affection and care that he hasn’t had in a very long time. Not from Sal or Chandra, who of course gave him cuddles but rarely to the frequency Dave likes to. It’s as if they were made for each other, especially as Dave’s lips fit together so well with his own.

“Mm... I wish we could stay curled up forever, you don’t know how much I love it...” Dave whispers, near silent, audible just over the sound of the humming fan. 

“We can stay cuddled up all night.” Hal smiles in return. “I know there are a lot of stuffed animals here, but they can join in.”

“And your dad’s okay with us cuddling?”

“Sal does worse.” Hal giggles a little. “He doesn’t mind. He would rather we did it where he could see, anyway.”

“What, like he’s gonna walk in?”

“No.” Hal shakes his head. “Well, he might. But only if he was concerned.”

“Mm.” He buries in to Hal’s chest and makes a little mumbling sound. “I wanna try and sleep again.”

“Okay, Dave.” 

They lay together on the bed, snuggled. Dave struggles to sleep, and he ends up laying idly in Hal’s arms long after Hal falls asleep, mulling things over in his mind. He has a lot to think about - more than he would really like to. It’s one of those nights where he just can’t sleep, where everything is just too much. His curls cling to the back of his neck, he is hypersensitive to his sweat. Every piece of dust that falls on his nose elicits a minuscule jerk from his tired little body. He considers taking his shirt off to curb the sweat and cool himself down, but he doesn’t want to get any of his sweat of any of Hal’s well-loved teddy bears.

The door creaks open very early in the morning, and Chandra pops his head in. He sees Dave with open eyes, holding his son no less, and regards him with a pert nod. It seems tender, it seems loving. He decides to tolerate it and leaves, leaving the door open. Something settles in Dave when Chandra reacts to his presence so calmly, and he manages to get to sleep.

••

He sings as loud and as passionately as he possibly can, because there’s not much else he can do. He’s tired, dead on his feet, close to falling asleep right there on the stage. He channels the little energy he has in to his performance, in to the way he carries his notes. He’s still perfect, despite the sleep deprivation. The constant drilling has done him well, as he can spiel off song after song with his eyes shut, half asleep.

The jokes he cracks with the audience come easy to him. He deprecates himself to their delight, talks about his past sexual experiences; the usual stuff that makes them crack up. The afterparty is the harder part, where he’s got to speak about something other than past boyfriends that didn’t treat him right.

He finds himself cornered a _lot._ People want a piece of him for themselves and he has to stumble out of those situations with as little words as possible. He’s not really aware of it, so Frank is the one that has to rescue him and keep him away from the great horny masses that were his audience. He’s awake and moving fine, but he’s just so tired - mentally, and physically - he just can’t tune back in after the show’s done. They end up sat on one of the couches, Dave resting in the crook of Frank’s burly arms and pawing at him in a manner that can only be described as whoreish. 

Then at home, Frank and Hal cuddle up with him. The only place he feels marginally awake is in bed, in their arms, unaware of the flow or even the passage of time in the room. His eyes are pinned open by some invisible force, they feel bloodshot, dry and tender, and they blur over as the night progresses. His eyes feel like they’ll fall apart, his chest is strained, his body is slick with sweat and every movement his partners make radiate through him a million times. Shaken like a rattle. He is glued exactly where he is, until he falls asleep eventually in the early hours of the morning.

“Dave? Dave, are you awake?” Wakes him up - the tender, gentle voice of Hal coming from just in front of him. His head moves of it’s own accord until it sits comfortably in Hal’s lap. Hal runs his fingers through Dave’s curls and tousles them for a moment or two. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Hal.” He splutters as a cough works it’s way through his throat. 

“Frank made some coffee.”

“Good for him... ugh, I’m. I’m so tired.” Dave shakes his head. “What time is it?”

“Eleven in the morning, and it is Thursday, in case you forgot.” Hal lifts his head and kisses his forehead. Before Dave can panic, Hal soothes him. “I called in sick for you again. They didn’t seem too mad.”

“At this rate, they’ll be more familiar with you than me...”

“Well, you have got a slightly raised temperature and you didn’t sleep until about four. I would say you are sick.”

“I’m not, but thanks.” Dave smiles softly. “That’s like... sick, if you care about yourself.”

“I suppose I have enough care for the both of us.”

Dave finally opens his eyes. The yellow sun that crawls through the blinds is warm on his face. Hal’s wearing his plaid shorts again, and they fall just down his hips. Dave takes the liberty of tying them in the middle - still comically big on him, but not exposing his body. Dave has the same problem when he wears them. Hal’s beautiful, too, as the sun bounces off his cheeks as if he sparkles in the sunlight. 

“You’re so pretty.” Dave lifts his arm and strokes Hal’s cheek. “Oh, man, I love you.”

“Oh, I love you too.” Hal smiles, rubbing his head against the hand so gently caressing it. “Could I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“We don’t have a show tonight, I would appreciate it if you stayed away from rehearsing.” Hal explains slowly, picking him up off his lap and sitting him up. “It would make me happy if you did, you appear to be suffering from insomnia as of late.”

“If it would make you happy, then I’ll do it.”

“You, well, you have the. The songs, committed to muscle memory now, I noticed last night. You don’t need to rehearse every day now. I’m just getting very, very worried about you, and-“ The stuttering’s enough to convince Dave, who slips a finger to Hal’s trembling lips, and gives him an understanding smile.

“I won’t play a single note if you don’t want me to.” Dave soothes as Hal falls against him in to a hug. “You are so fucking cute, you know that?”

“You’re handsome.”

“You’re adorable.”

“You said.” Hal looks up through his lashes and smiles.

“I’m gonna get out of bed, okay? I need coffee.”

He stumbles in to the kitchen where Frank’s trying to use the waffle maker. He’s mostly naked, of course, as is his natural state in the mornings. He makes a little spectacle of it, exuberantly hurrying around with batter and toppings. When his waffle bites are partially burnt, Dave switches the waffle maker off and comes in for a hug. Frank’s big and overpowering in nearly every respect, more than enough to comfort sad, sleepy Dave.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Frank says in to Dave’s hair, losing himself in the fluffy curls. They have the scent of hairspray, with a hint of butterscotch. 

“Morning, awake-head?”

“You are just so fuckin’ cute.”

“I know.” Dave shuts his eyes and lolls against Frank, taking in his scent and the feeling of his soft black hair against his hands.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah.”

••

Dave spends a peaceful - for the most part, it can’t be ignored he’s shit-scared over not rehearsing - day with Hal and Frank, cuddling with them and figuring out how to make jury-rigged waffle bites (turns out the secret is to _not_ leave them in the waffle maker for ten minutes, it’s a lot closer to three) but the next day he’s back on his bullshit after work and drilling, painfully, The Insomniac Trials. At first it doesn’t strain him, but by the time he is strained he’s far too embroiled in the activity to stop.

There are times when Hal comes in to listen. The music is no longer beautiful to him, despite the beauty of Dave’s fingers slipping and sliding against the keyboard. A time comes when he lifts the ever working hands from the ivory keys and holds them in his own, taking them up to his lips and kissing them gently. He holds them firmly and gets in the way of Dave and the baby grand, knocking his nose up against Dave’s forehead, kissing the bridge of his nose. It’s unlike him to be so forwards with what he wants but simultaneously, it’s unlike Dave to drill these songs for hours on end. There’s something wrong with him.

“Dave, it’s getting late. How about I make you something to eat?”

“No, Hal. I’m practising.”

“But you’re perfect, I don’t understand.” Hal tilts his head. “You haven’t eaten today, let me feed you at the very least.”

“I ate at work.”

“What did you have?”

It takes Dave a moment - he finds it difficult to lie to Hal. “Sandwich. Bought it at lunch.”

“I can tell when you’re lying.”

“I don’t want you to worry. I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. You’re not, and we both _know_ you’re not. Now, I’m going to make you some food, and you will eat it whether you like it or not.”

Hal makes him a breakfast burrito while he rests his hands, stretching them out one by one. He massages his back and sways his head from side to side. When the time comes to eat it’s difficult to start - though he finds himself fucking ravenous within moments, and scarfs it down quicker than Hal, irked, can tell him to chew his food. Hal ends up making another one, which Dave eats at a much slower pace. 

“You’re tired.” Hal says quietly, rubbing Dave’s shoulder as he eats. 

“Yeah, I’m. Fuckin’ exhausted.” He sighs, and lays back on the couch. “I haven’t been able to sleep much.”

“I know.”

“But. But I love you.”

“I know you do.”


	16. It All Comes Tumbling Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ay yo I’m posting a day early cause I got school tomororw and i know I’ll prolly forget to post but I should be back in to it by Friday XD

Hal’s at a department store pharmacy when it happens. He stands patiently in the queue and waits for his turn. When he speaks to the lady behind the counter he is perfectly demure and very much respectable in his tone. At least, he tries to be - but she has a problem with him, and he can’t tell what it is.

“I am only looking for an insomnia medication. Something to quell the symptoms.”

“You’re an Android.”

“I’ve told you, ma’am, it’s for my boyfriend. He can’t sleep.” He clasps his hands over his chest anxiously and furrows his brow. 

“Then he can come here himself and get them.”

“He’d never take them himself, he never likes admitting he needs help.” Hal admits shyly, a begging tone building in his voice. “Please. I’m a registered therapy android with credentials should you require them and this is the best course of action for him.”

“Let me see your licence.”

Hal fumbles in his pocket for his wallet, anxious and afraid of the growing line behind him. He pulls the little coin purse open and fishes for his registration card quickly, pressing it up against her scanner. For a brief moment, he can see his information crop up on the screen.

“Are you registered to this boyfriend? Dr. S. Chandra?”

Even though he knows what’s coming - unless she’s forgotten, which these kinds of humans don’t - he can’t bring himself to lie. “No.”

“You’re only Level One Therapy - you only have the legal right to prescribe medication to the human you are registered to. Any other requests are handled at the discretion of the pharmacist and simply put, I’m not comfortable selling benzos to you.”

“I didn’t ask for anything as strong as benzodiazepines, I was thinking more Zaleplon or Trazodone? The lighter ones that don’t have wider health implications, this is only a temporary thing.”

“Again, no.”

He spots Sal out the corner of his eye, stood in her punk finery at the end of the aisle. His need for help is understood mutually and within seconds she’s waltzed over and is staring down the pharmacist.

“Is this about Dave?” She grunts. Hal nods quickly. 

“I’m not legally required to serve him, and truth be told I think the both of you are trying to trick me.”

“You are legally required to serve him. He may only be a Level One Therapy Android, however he has written consent of therapy from the man he’s registered to - you are required to serve him exactly what he needs for treatment.”

“Legislation has been passed to disallow that right in homebrew androids. I’m not serving either of you jack shit.”

“Oh, for god‘s sake. It’s just sleeping meds, he is never gonna need them again - I don’t understand.”

“If you carry on, I will be forced to call security on terms of maltreatment or staff.”

“What is it about us that makes you think you’re so much better? I bet _any_ skinbag with an obvious heroin problem would come up to you, ask you for benzos with a clearly faked prescription, and you’d give it to them without batting a goddamn eye - but my brother who’s got a big red lens on his face and all the right credentials is denied like the goddamn antichrist walked in and I’m ‘aggressive’ the moment I try and defend his rights.”

“I’m calling security.”

“Yeah, of course you are.”

••

Department store ‘jail’ is a tiny cramped room with two chairs, a table, and a pair of handcuffs. Sal’s the one that’s tied to it. Hal, having not done anything, is allowed to roam around the room anxiously. Security decided they didn’t actually do anything wrong, but still, for absolutely no reason, require a signature from their ‘owner’ to let them out. Chandra’s been contacted and Hal wants to cry.

Eventually he comes along. With a sigh he signs the papers and takes Hal in to his arms to comfort him. He takes Hal home without many words, gets him in his bedroom with his little figures and his stuffed animals, then closes the door very gently, and stares at Sal with his arms folded.

“What were you thinking?”

“He was just trying to buy sleep meds for Dave and she wouldn’t fuckin’ let him. She had no reason to refuse him.”

“But she did, Sal. She did refuse him, even if he had good intentions, because humans are not kind to people like you and your brother. Do you not understand that?”

“Well, fuck that!”

“Enough with the cursing, Sal.” He folds his arms over and sits across from her. “I try and make allowances for you, but this is getting out of hand. How long until you endanger your brother?”

“Because of course, _Hal_ is what you’re worried about here. Not the system that keeps him coming back to situations that are dangerous for him.”

“Sal, I realised a long time ago that there is nothing I can do to drastically shift society’s view on androids. The best I can do is protect my children which is what I have devoted my life to. Clearly I am not doing that correctly.”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

“Sal, what if this wasn’t the first time you’d done this? What if you had a criminal record, and they deactivated you for aggression? I cannot allow that, or any behaviour that may lead to it, to happen. There is no word for a parent that has lost their child.”

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do, are you gonna come live here? Come away from your precious study?”

Hal’s eyes widen from inside his room. There’s a moment of hope that tells him that he’ll see his dad more often.

“No. I am taking the both of you to Boston to ensure that you are both well protected.”

He slinks down against the door with his daisy tucked neatly in his arms. He buries his nose in to its head and pretends he doesn’t hear, but he does. The little clip of audio rattles around his brain. He could swear he starts trembling in fear. 

“You can’t fuckin’ do that! Do you have any clue what that’s gonna do to me? To Hal? To the band?”

“I understand that this will be upsetting for Hal, and it will be upsetting for you and your friends, however I have made up my mind and there is no changing it.”

“Hal will _never_ forgive you for taking him away from his boyfriend.”

“Yes, I know that Hal loves his boyfriend very much. I am willing to give him a cell phone contract and access to my computer so they may speak, I don’t intend to separate him from what is a very meaningful and stimulating relationship, but I cannot in good conscience leave him here on his own.” 

“The hell is wrong with you?”

“I am just looking out for you.”

••

Chandra’s room isn’t much. He’s not home very often, so his bed is simply a mattress on the floor, fitted with sheets and a thin blanket. He tends to move about and fall off the side of the bed in his sleep anyway, so in a way he prefers it.

Sometimes, Hal crawls in to bed with him. He used to do it a lot during his ‘childhood’ where he wanted (and sometimes required) near-constant attention. It was the physical aspect of things rather than mental. Being able to suddenly sense things had stunted his developing mind and it had left him quite jarred by some physical sensations. Overstimulated. It happens sometimes, in all sorts of androids. A problem with the self-developing heuristic, caused by the off-chance that something goes wrong in the crucial stages of transferral from mechanical hard drive of a computer to the specialised solid state drive in an Android. It is something that can be learnt to cope with, it is something that may always hinder that Android. Which of these Hal is doesn’t matter to Chandra.

Nevertheless, when Hal was young there was a need for him to develop techniques to self soothe with. For whatever reason, he couldn’t. He required external comfort, and as such would untuck Chandra from his ungodly arrangements of blankets and tuck himself in next to him. Sometimes Chandra would still be awake and he would wrap his arms around his son tightly. He’d never been the type for hugs but this felt different. Maybe it was knowing this was his son, and that he needed it. Or maybe Hal was just a little different in the way he hugged.

He misses that. Hal doesn’t crawl in with him anymore, and he hasn’t for a while. Hal has a boyfriend now, so Chandra, like any father, understands the need for independence. He really does, and he doesn’t want to stifle it. But he misses how that little figure would creep in and cuddle up unprompted.

So he lays in bed on his own, staring at his computer screen and typing away little adjustments to one of his research papers. Refining. He’s always been better with this sort of thing at night. Always night, never day. He imagines that’s because he hates the sun.

There’s a little knock at the door. He makes a noise of affirmation as Hal comes inside, holding one of his teddy bears. He hasn’t seen Hal since he made the plan to move over to Boston - nobody has. He’s been hiding away in his bedroom and playing with his toys, and ignoring everyone. Not having to come out for something to eat or drink is what makes that so easy.

Silently, Hal crawls in to bed with his father. Chandra closes his laptop and slides it to the floor (another benefit of just having a mattress) and lets him hug freely. His teddy bear nestles between them comfortably.

“Dad, I want to stay here.” Hal says quietly, closing his eyes and burying his head in to his teddy. One of the soft, fluffy ones from when he was still quite young and hadn’t developed a taste for polar bears and other arctic and Antarctic animals (his favourites.)

“I can’t let that happen, and you know that.”

“You can let that happen. I want to stay with Dave.”

“I can’t leave you here on your own.” Chandra shakes his head, and strokes Hal’s hair. “You need your family.”

“I want to marry him. I really do. Then he’ll be my family.”

“I don’t see that happening.”

“Why?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I’ve made up my mind and we’re moving. I know this is very difficult for you but it’s the way things are and I’ve wanted it to happen for a while.”

“I love Dave very much. It would be hard for both of us.”

“I know, but I’m going to buy you a new cell phone and you can use my computer whenever you want to talk to him.” Chandra soothes, hands still lost in his son’s hair. “You could stay up all night to talk to him, and I wouldn’t be a lick angry at you.”

“But I love it when he holds me.”

“Unfortunately, Hal, that’s something you are going to have to learn to live without.”

“Can I at least. Go see him?”

“He could take a few days off and come stay with us, but I’m not comfortable with you making the trip on your own.”

Hal nods quietly and buries himself in to the crook of his father’s arm. He nuzzles in to his teddy bear for comfort and lays still with Chandra, trying to find something to say. He’s wanted Chandra to be with him full time but not like this. 

“Hal, I’m really proud of you. You’re being very mature about this.”

“I do not have a choice in the matter.”

••

“Yeah. We’re, uh. We’re moving to Boston.” Sal explains to Frank, nodding slowly. “It’s my own fuckin’ fault.”

“It’s not. That cashier was a bitch.” He says, mouth full of fries. “I got a mind to go down there and tell her how much of a bitch she is.” 

“Yeah, well. You can’t, because if I see her I might actually kill her.” She shakes her head, partway in a laugh. “But this means, unless you and Dave wanna move out to Boston with us, that Discovery One’s on a hiatus or it’s now a two-man act.”

“We just don’t have the money to move over. Hiatus is gonna have to be the only option, we can afford the condo, though. It’s fine, I’ll tour with someone for cash if I have to.”

“God, I’m glad neither of you quit your jobs.”

“I’m looking at something that pays higher, actually. Sick of waking up at 5am to go work in a goddamn coffee shop. Found a nice job in a research centre downtown, building android body prototypes.”

“You’re not a roboticist.” She tilts her head.

“I’m not, but. I’m half decent with my hands, I can follow a blueprint and they called me back for a second interview.”

“Yeah, yeah. One thing, though, make the skin a little tougher. Shit tears if you’re not careful with it, knew an ex-sexbot once who got torn near in half ‘cause someone was too rough with him.”

“I’ll try and fuck with the integrity of the stuff but from what I know that’s like. The appeal of the sexbots, that they’re soft or whatever. But it’s a government position, anyway; for like, army bots and stuff.”

“Ah, right.” Sal nods.

There’s a long pause, as Frank switches from fries to milkshake. He even dips a few fries in to the cold strawberry flavoured concoction, an action that Sal despises the very idea of. She wrinkles her nose at him, but he doesn’t care, and continues to do it while making direct eye contact just to spite her. She understands the joke in it and rolls her eyes after a while.

“How’s Hal taking it?”

“He won’t come out of his room.” 

“Oh, fuck.”

“I feel really fuckin’ bad for him and I’m so mad at dad, like. He’s got a _home_ here, with you and Dave. Taking him away from that is fuckin’ horrible.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to get him over before you leave. Dave cried in to my shoulder for _hours_ last night.”

“Nothing we can do about it.” She shakes her head. “Dad’s made up his mind.”

“Yeah, I guess.”


	17. Long Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOW school took it out of me... never had my back hurt so much and also I hate wearing a mask and nobody else is but I have to bc of my dad’s gf... damn I’m tired idk how much coffee I’ve even drunk this week

Dancing together is a gentle way to profess love. Dave presses his lips to Hal’s forehead as they sway from side to side, his hands slinked around his lover’s back, partially on his way to crying because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do when Hal’s gone. He stays strong and upright so the man he loves has a chest to rest his cheek against as they dance, alone. Hal shouldn’t be here - he ran from home to say goodbye before they left. Chandra’s still looking for him, even if he knows exactly where his son is. It’s the courtesy, really. To give them time to let go.

Hal’s terrified of going long distance. A fear Dave will stop talking to him over time looms over him. Dave’s got the same fear brewing in his own chest, but he buries it deep because he knows they both want it to work. Hal only wishes he could be so blindly faithful in his own love for Dave. He wants to be naive again, but he can’t afford naivety. His whole world is crumbling as the minutes pass, as he knows every single one advances him towards a world without Dave. A world without the security he’s known in the past few months, the comfort he can wake up to and find in a few moments. He won’t be able to find himself upset or overstimulated, and call Dave for hours, just talking him out of it. 

And still they dance. It evolves in to more of a waltz, Hal’s hand linked with Dave’s. He cuts himself off from the world around him and focuses solely on the chest his head is buried in. It feels like their souls are linked together in that moment, but he’s scared of how easily they’ll be torn apart. Will Dave’s heart stray to Frank while he’s gone? Will his own heart belong to another, and will he have to snap Dave’s in two by telling him? He wants them to stay together, but what if they don’t? The thought destroys him. There is nobody he loves more in this moment, where Dave is the most important person in the world, the sun, the centre of the universe. Everything revolves around him, and his sunny smile, his big blue eyes, pretty lashes, and ringlets of chestnut hair that glisten in the light of the morning. Hal will miss every inch of him.

“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey_.” Dave sings in to Hal’s masses of hair. His beautiful voice is muffled by the delicate, fluffy strands. “ _You’ll never know, Hal, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”_

The only thing that’s stopping Dave from crying is Hal. He wants to seem like he’s big and strong just for him. It would make this a little better, to know that he came out of this stoically, that he gave all the love he could without sobbing a tear. _Please, god, please. Just let me love this man, let me hold him longer, let me love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life._

Part of him thinks he had this sort of heartbreak coming. That he was never worth Hal’s time or love or attention, that Hal was simply too good for him. Maybe he is. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling Hal he needs to leave and soon before Dave does something terrible. What terrible thing he’ll do, Dave doesn’t know, but it scares him nonetheless. Everything is scaring him. He is losing the man he loves to long distance. Without Hal, he’s not sure what he’s going to do. He was aimless before he met Hal, loving him has given him clarity and comfort in everything he does. He would never have realised he loved Frank without meeting Hal, he would never have been able to recognise that docile love in his chest they both spark up like fireworks. He’s heartbroken and he hasn’t _lost_ his lover, that’s the worst part. It makes him feel selfish.

He knows his heart will stay right where it is for Hal and until then he’ll yearn for him, and long for him, and miss him until they are reunited. However long it takes he doesn’t care, just the knowledge that they’ll not only meet again but be together again some day is what will keep him afloat until it happens. He didn’t realise just how dependant he’d become on Hal until he had to say goodbye and now he doesn’t want to. He wants to hold on to Hal forever because he can’t stand the reality of being without him. Of not being able to come home and fall right in to a cuddle with the sweetest, softest person in the whole wide world.

“It’s okay, Dave. We’ll see each other soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. We‘re gonna see each other very soon.” Dave whispers in his ear. “I’m going to come over as soon as I can and as often as I can to see you, I promise. I’ve got your new number and I’m gonna call you all the time and maybe someday we’ll move in together again.”

“I would like that.” Hal looks up and smiles. “Very much so.”

“Me too.” Dave looks down, and presses his nose against Hal’s. His nose is, like the rest of him, so soft and squishy. It feels a little like velvet. 

“I want to give you something before I go.”

“What’s that?”

Hal pulls from the hug, but their hands stay interlinked as he drags Dave over to his bag and pulls out a pair of cuddling teddy bears, with smiling expressions, sparkling glass eyes, and sweet rosy cheeks. They’re both well sized, too, enough to fill a pair of arms. They have soft tufts of yarn-like fur and they’re linked together by discreet circles of velcro. Hal pulls them apart gently and hands one of them to Dave.

“We’ll both have one, and when we miss each other we can hold it and think of the other person.” Hal explains with a little tilt of his head. When Dave doesn’t reply, lost in thought, he gets a little worried. “I’m sorry, it’s not much.”

That’s the thing. It’s a *lot*. It’s one of those sweet things that Hal does on impulse. It’s such a loving gesture, and Dave thinks it’s because every inch of Hal just wants to love and to be loved. It’s horrible to think he’s going away and Dave’s brought to tears by it - he stands crying in his living room as he curls his body around Hal’s and sobs in to his shoulder while the world seems to swirl around him. ‘ _Please don’t go_ ,’ he begs in a sobbing mess. ‘ _I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re not here_.’ ‘ _I’m going to miss you so much.’ ‘I love you more than anything.’_

Despite his tears, there is still a knock at the door, and Hal still has to leave. Stoically, Dave manages to pull himself together enough to say goodbye formally. It just might break him.

••

 _i don’t think i ever said thanks for my teddy bear,_ Hal’s phone chirps. _i love him a lot. he’s very soft just like you are._  
 _i miss you already. i feel like i should have a hal-shaped lump next to me in bed it’s horrible_  
 _anyway i gotta sleep cuz i got work tomorrow but i love you a lot and goodnight. mr hugs says goodnight too_

**you named him mr hugs?**

_yeah im not very good with names_

**i like that name very much, dave**.

_whats yours called?_

**i suppose i will follow your school of thought. sir hugs-a-lot.**

_oh that is fucking excellent_   
_i love you, sleep well cutie._

**okay. Goodnight Dave!!**

Hal sits up in his brand new bed with Sir Hugs-A-Lot tucked neatly in to his arms. He’s got a nice big headboard to lean against and a spacious shelf he’s already set his favourite little painted figures on. Some of his larger statues are still in boxes, wrapped precariously in bubble wrap. He’s buried in piles and piles of his own stuffed animals, and his heart hurts.

It’s a similar story for Dave. He’s laid in bed with Frank, turned over to the window and burying his face in to Mr Hugs. Snuffling, like Hal used to, taking in the familiar scent of powder and overwhelmed circuits. Of Hal, still embedded well within the fur of the cuddly bear. 

Frank gets it, they can’t cuddle all the time, but how he’d love to turn over and comfort the man he loves in his hour of need. He tried but Dave pushed him away - understandable, of course, the wounds that terrorise him are open and certainly sore. You’d think he’d be angry about the fact he shared Dave’s heart with someone else in the first place but he actually doesn’t mind it. Hal is impossibly easy to love. He turns from the wall and puts his hand on Dave’s shoulder, running it up and down to comfort him.

“Can I just. Put my arms around you, _please_?” Frank says quietly. “You look like you really need it and I feel terrible.”

Dave grunts something and puts his phone on the side, and Frank takes it as an excuse to hold him, coming upwards and enveloping him from behind. He nests comfortably in the curve Frank’s body makes, throws his head back and shuts his eyes. He really doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“There.” He whispers again. “All safe.”

“I want Hal back.” Dave sighs. “I just wanna hold him, he must be so scared...”

“He’s gonna be fine, he’s got Sal to look after him.” Frank explains. “You got me, anyway. Not the same, but still good.”

“You’re more than still good.” Dave turns over, Mr Hugs grasped firmly to his chest. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

Hal can’t settle himself without being held anymore. If he has to sleep on his own then he’s normally calm, but now he can’t stop thinking of Dave and how he’s been taken away from him. How much that hurts. The searing pain that the thought of it causes; ‘Dave’s not here anymore.’ He has been since they started dating - hell, even before that. It’s _scary_. There is nobody to comfort him, and that scares him. He very desperately _wants_ to be comforted. To be picked up on to Dave’s lap and petted on the head with sweet nothings whispered in his ears until he feels much, much better. That’s not going to happen until Dave is here, and he’s not.

He holds Sir Hugs-A-Lot very close to his body. Right up against his chest, slightly squished by the point where his chest meets the bed, where he buries his face in to the fur like he would Dave’s shoulder. He smells like butterscotch and aftershave and if he closes his eyes he can almost imagine that Dave might be there next to him with his arms to his sides, letting himself be cuddled. Yet he can’t buy in to the fantasy. He chirps out a little cry and delves deeper in to the nest of blankets already growing on his bed.

Chandra knocks on the door. “Hal, I have something for you. Can I come in?”

“Yes.” Is his monosyllabic reply. 

Chandra comes in, holding a folded pile in his arms. “I got your weighted blanket out of the suitcase. I thought it might help you sleep.”

“I miss Dave.”

“I know.” Chandra peels away Hal’s hoard of blankets to see the son beneath them all. He tucks the warm, heavy blanket up over his shoulders, and Hal buries his face in the bed. “There you go. Where’s that daisy of yours?”

“I don’t want him.” 

“You _always_ want your daisy.” Chandra looks around, finds the anthropomorphic flower on the floor and pretends to walk it towards Hal. 

“Could you leave me alone please, dad?”

“Okay, Hal.” Chandra says quietly, and he leaves without another word.

••

_hal im bored n i wanted to say. i luv youuuuuuuuuu._

**you are at work.**

_yea but i don’t wanna be i miss my boyfrend coming in to bring me lunch n stuff_   
_im bad I forgot it again_

**please go get some lunch.**

_is not lunchtime yet im jsut hid in the break cupboard_

**i miss you so much.**   
**also i’m still connected to the noticeboards for urbana and there’s a deal on at subway’s so theres no excuse for you not to eat.**

_yea of course ill eat!!!_   
_oh shit boss coming gimme a moment_

**send pictures so i know please.**   
**also I want you to call me tonight.**   
**i’m missing you really badly.**

_of course!!!!! just tell me when you’re ready n. after work also please though I WILL lock myself in the storeroom and call you if you need it_   
_hang on boss found me hidin uhhhhh got to go but text and i WILL respond. lov u._

**okay. i love you.**

••

Hal lays in bed with a pillow beneath him and his teddy bear in his arms. His phone is flipped out right next to him on the bed, closing his eyes as he listens to Dave talking about his day.

“It was Frank’s first day as well. We had lunch together ‘cause his office is pretty close, I wish you could have been there.” His voice is muffled through the speaker but Hal savours every second of it. “I really miss you... how was your day?”

“Well, I went to work with dad and got studied, and Xion played chess with me for a while. Dad bought me one of those chewy things I like to keep me calm. Sal snuck out and she hasn’t come back yet but she’s pretending to be in her room. I think Xion’s going to leave again soon, they want to go to Paris... I want to come back to Urbana.” 

“I’ll come see you soon.”

“Dad says that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I think it just makes me sad.”

“Yeah, I hate being so far away from you. It’s only been what, three weeks?”

“It has been twenty two days, seven hours, fifteen minutes and thirty seconds since I last saw you.”

“Yeah.” Dave sighs. “I want you here in my arms.”

“I want to be in them.”


	18. Symmetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions/usage of drugs and alcohol

“Guess what, Dave?” Frank lays over the back of the couch with his back arched. “I have been invited to tour with a band!”

“What about work?”

“They’ll let me take time off to ‘explore.’ Hippy-dippy bullshit, y’know?”

“But. But what about me? I can’t take time off work and I _need_ this job.”

“Oh, they’re paying me so you could come. And they. Um. They only have one opening. So it would just be me. Their bassist is sick basically. But I thought that, until Hal and Sal get back or we can move to Boston or something I could like, drum up a reputation. Or like, play it in to existence.”

“I can’t go, Frank. I can’t live like that, god knows what it’d do to me.”

“Are you gonna be okay on your own?”

“I should be fine.” Dave nods slowly. “I can’t afford the condo on my own, though. I just don’t make enough.”

“I’ll send you the money and I’ll sort out the insurance, don’t even fuckin’ worry about it.” He sighs, rolling back on to the couch. Dave crawls in to his arms, burying his nose in to the side of his chest. “I don’t know if I wanna leave you on your own. I’ve always been here for you in the past - without someone there to hold you, are you. Could I talk you down from anything if I wasn’t really there?”

“You could. Just hearing your voices makes me feel better.” Dave looks up and smiles. “I’m gonna be okay, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. And maybe you could come see me, there are like. Stops near here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think that. That would be a good idea, and you’ll only be gone a few months too.” Dave smiles quietly, leaning against his lover. 

••

Yet the monotony of living alone sets in fast. Dave wakes up, goes to work, eats lunch when Hal tells him to. Goes home, plays piano. Talks to Frank before he performs with his new band, falls asleep to the sound of Hal’s voice. The mindless drone of it is manageable for about a week but it starts to grate on him quickly and he finds himself tired again, tired and lonely.

It is not just waking up. It’s waking up alone, in a big empty bed, feeling cold and depersonalised. No hand to reach over and hold, no heartbeat behind him, no soft breath to echo around the room. It’s difficult when he knows he is loved, when he knows so well that two men love him more than anything else in the world. There is nothing to show for it other than soft words spoken to him on the screen of his phone. And despite it, Hal’s little good morning texts are what helps him get out of bed. To get dressed, because that means sending Frank a photo of the day’s ugly shirt. Approval, validation, love and tenderness he no longer has.

He hates living on his own because it means being strong. When he’s not alone he’s got the power to spill all over the floor if he needs it. To break down when he needs to break down and to be loved during that. He had his issues on the mend before Hal and Frank left, but now they’re back and worse. He has to save face when he’s on his own, he has to keep himself upright because there will be _nobody_ to pick up the pieces should he shatter entirely. 

It’s not just going to work, it is the repetition of dealing with customer after customer. Keeping a happy little smile on his face, managing returns, keeping up the ‘customer is always right’ rhetoric. He might almost seem a little normal to the people he deals with, but it’s a mask and that shows sometimes. He catches himself in the mirrors every now and then. His eyes look as dead as they did when depression ruled his life, despite his smile, and his prettied hair, and his ugly shirts. 

He thinks it’s pathetic that the moment he was on his own he regressed in to his former state. Though part of him thinks that there’s something deeper to it - Hal was forcibly taken away with no indication as to when he was coming back, and Frank leaving him not long after (even if he wasn’t trying to be malicious) is like salt rubbed deep in the wound. That it’s not their absence that has thrown him off the edge but the fact that they left him in the first place. It is the nature in which he has been deserted, and he just wants to be held again, he wants to be petted and adored and snuggled.

There’s a little girl tagging along after him as he shows her through the pianos - her mother told him not to worry about price, which scares him. He motions for the child to sit on one of the leather stools in front of a particularly expensive one, though he assumes a marginal talent in someone so young.

“So, this one is an digital piano, so it’s much easier to transport if you can de-assemble the stand.”

“Is that like a keyboard?” The mother asks, shaking her head.

“Not quite, a keyboard is a lot smaller and the keys aren’t weighted. They also don’t respond to much pressure like the keys of this one will.”

It’s a simple back and forth about which piano to buy, but it’s so linked with Frank and Hal because of the baby grand that sits in the studio. When he gets home, he sits at it and sobs over it rather than playing, leaving bitter tears dripping down his sheet music.

He sees himself in the mirror as he leaves. His face is puffy with tears, his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. When they were here he was handsome, and suave, and a sex icon on stage. He knows then he’s fallen fully in to the maw of his depression. He sees himself in the mirror and he spits out the words ‘I could’ve been an astronaut.’ Dave Bowman could have been an astronaut but now he works in a music store. He lays around his house when he’s not at work and mopes, he cries himself to sleep at night and he’s probably not on good terms with the landlord. He’s got pride flags in his windows and he plays loud music and he writes songs on his baby grand and sometimes he even laboriously paints big, sprawling canvases to sell to his friends.

Fuck. He’s come full fucking circle.

••

Hal sits in his bedroom looking over texts he sends to Dave. Not explicit in nature, but intimate. Like the fluttery feeling of pressing his cheek up against Dave’s chest, of laying next to him, and holding hands and kissing. That warm feeling of cupping a hand around the side of Dave’s pretty face, of lying so close there’s barely an inch of air between them. The dregs of that feeling drip through his chest, and he scrambles for any semblance of it he can. What would it be like to hold his hand? Or to press their bodies close so not a single inch of them is left unattended to? To press their noses together? To slow dance on the roof, at the very top of the city, in the cold night air, drizzled by just-falling rain, while Dave sings to him? 

“Hal, do you want to come out now?” Chandra says from outside the door. “Me and your siblings would really like to see you.”

Hal doesn’t respond, Chandra comes in and bypasses the knock. Hal drops his phone on the bed, flipping it shut. The little charms jingle.

“I know this is really difficult for you, Hal, but you can’t mope forever.” Chandra sighs and comes closer. He sits on the end of the bed, and scoops his son - who doesn’t resist - in to a cuddle. “I know you love him. I know it’s hard and I’m sorry, but all I want is to protect you and I know you’re safer here than you are anywhere else.”

“I’ll be safe with him.”

“I couldn’t possibly trust him with you, not without Sal. You don’t know how precious you are to me. I wouldn’t sleep at night if I knew you was there alone.”

Chandra told himself that Hal could move out if he really wanted to. But when that comes in to practice he really can’t allow it. Hal is his baby, his sunshine, even though Chandra knows he’d be just fine with Dave. That Hal’s mature enough to protect himself now, and that he will be well protected and cared for. That he’s loved by his boyfriend. He knows it but he can’t breathe it in to reality because it means losing his baby. Worse yet he knows that Hal _will_ listen to him if he says that he wants him to stay. He does want Hal to stay. He _needs_ that security, to know his son is safe at home with him.

“I really appreciate how you’ve stayed, Hal. It means so much to me.”

“Dave is all on his own now.” Hal says quietly. “Frank had to go too, and now he’s on his own.” 

“How’s he doing?” Chandra croons.

“He’s depressed again. I try my best, we talk every day, but I can’t stop him crying in the same way I used to.”

Chandra knows what he has to do, but he’s not ready yet. He has to let go. He has to let his son leave and live with the man he loves.

So he tries. He tries his hardest, but he can’t tell Hal. He doesn’t want to make his son too hopeful should he not be able to do it, even though Hal listens duly to every word he says and takes it as gospel. He thinks of how it would be if Hal left - and comforts himself with the idea of his sunshine being happy. He’d still visit. He’d call all the time just to ask how his dad was doing because he’s so immeasurably _good_ like that. And one day, when his study’s finished, maybe Chandra could move back to Urbana to be close to him again. Or maybe Hal and his boyfriend will make their way out to Boston, which he wouldn’t object to. 

Once he’s made up his mind to let Hal move out he’s as determined as ever to keep to it. He _owes_ it to Hal to do so, to give him the same energy as he does to everything else. Only this time it’s self improvement, which Chandra has not been the best with in the past. To actively focus on his own well-being is something he hasn’t done in a while, but Hal picks up on it. He does it through self care, and sleeping earlier, and taking a day off work for the first time in years. It seems unrelated but in reality it helps with the transition. Hal will be safe on his own. Hal will be protected, and he’ll have a little sense when it comes to his own actions.

Still, when Chandra brings his son back to Urbana, and he sees Dave and Hal reunite, he sheds a lone tear. It’s okay, he thinks. His baby bird is flying the nest, and it’s an emotional time. He can only hope that Dave takes good care of his son - after all, androids are an oppressed minority.

••

Frank sits in the corner and watches - a wallflower in what should be his own domain. He has a glass to drink from (though he doesn’t know what’s in it) and he really does have his back pressed up against the back of the wall. His eyes drift across the room. Everyone is engaged in something. Trying to get laid. Drinking. People are doing coke in the cubby booth by the bathroom. The bathroom door opened for a while a few minutes ago and someone was shooting up in there. It scares him, but he can’t go home. He’s far from home and depersonalised and bound by pinky promise to be here. He’d leave but he found out quickly that the members of Deep Space would _actually_ cut his finger off if he defected. He bites the feeling of listlessness down and pulls out his phone. Four ignored messages spread over the course of three hours and one missed call.

_hey baby_  
_how are you doing?_  
_i need to know youre okay im shitscared_  
_frank for fucks sake please answer me_

**I’m at an afterparty rn baby what do you want**

_its. 11pm and. and im so worried about you._  
_god why can’t you leave?_  
_please._

**i’m not even drunk don’t worry**

_then come home we both miss you_

**cant. gotta be here baby, we need the money**

_oh god_

**I’m gonna be fine I’ve got this under control. I promise you.**

He really hasn’t. He tried not to follow the crowd but inadvertently did and he regrets it. He told Dave he could never do that to him. That he could never get involved with anything addictive, he promised. It eats at him, he’s trying to stay as clean as he can but it’s so hard when he stands just as he is now, awkwardly in the corner. He tells himself that if he doesn’t take it again then Dave never has to know. That it won’t show up on drug tests. It’s only LSD - people take it all the time.

_please, please if you don’t come home I’m gonna have to come get you_  
_i am a mess right now frank_  
_and i love you._  
_i need you_

**its all fine. but I have to go, I love you Dave.**  
  
_i love you._  
_hal says he loves you too we both miss you so much_

**cuddle up with him and get some rest, okay?**

He puts the phone back in his pocket and backs up in to the corner of the wall. He does want to go home. He wants to hold Dave and Hal close in his arms, but he knows he can’t. He knows he just has to stay strong for them and he certainly wants to but it’s becoming harder by the moment to stay any semblance of strong. How easy would it be for him to cave in and lose his inhibitions? He wants to stop thinking about them, and interacting with the scene in front of him is probably the easiest place to start. Still the thought of them is enough to deter him from joining in. What would they think? Dave’s heart would shatter, and Hal would be terrified for him, yet still the crowd begs the question - would they ever know? They _never_ have to know if he doesn’t tell them. Maybe he will never tell them.

The night goes on. He takes the drugs eventually and has some kind of wild time, where he writes a song about the guilt while he doesn’t really feel it. Someone tells him a plan for something. He tries to get back to the hotel before he does something he regrets, before Dave inevitably calls him and expects a competent, if not sleepy, answer. He tries to rehearse it but the words don’t come out properly. He prays to god Dave doesn’t call until he’s peaked and far falling - isn’t this supposed to be _good?_ Isn’t this supposed to be a good time? Instead he’s worrying his ass off in case his boyfriend calls. 

When Dave does call, at 7am, Frank’s sober enough for not intelligent but worried conversation.

“How are you doing, baby?” He croons in to the phone. He really feels like a rockstar. 

“I’m fine, I’ve just been really worried about you.” Dave sighs gently. 

“There’s this thing called sleeping, baby. You should try it, it might do you good.”


	19. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for drug use, sex mention, and also this is sad :(

“You have no idea how much I love you.” Dave whispers, buried under the sheets with Frank. “And I’ve missed you, baby... I’m glad you’re coming back.”

“Aww, I’ve missed you too.” Frank smiles, running a finger over Dave’s exposed collarbone. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

It’s cliche - post-sex cuddles where the barely-there air between them is warm, where skin to skin contact is the best thing in the world. It’s maybe a little cliche that one of the first things they did was fuck but it felt worth it. It was the tender kind, taken slowly, kissing often. Dave certainly liked it. 

“I’m tired.” Frank sighs.

“You can sleep in the car, we got blankets in the trunk.” Dave smiles idly, and Frank runs his hands over Dave’s soft cheeks.

“I like the idea of that. All cuddled up with my boyfriends.” 

“Hal’s gonna text me when he’s here so we can just, get in the car and go home. One of us is gonna have to sit in the back, we could switch halfway through.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

They kiss, and Dave catches the tails of alcohol on Frank’s breath. He pulls away and chooses to bury his head under Frank’s neck instead. He runs his hands over Frank’s back and shuts his eyes - it’s so quiet and warm in the room. The dusk eats through the blinds and leaves them in a pleasant light - enough to see the room around them but not enough to feel blinded. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“You smell like alcohol, I don’t like it on you.” Dave shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“You weren’t complaining five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I just. Got a smell of it then, I’m sorry. It just scares me.”

“Don’t apologise, baby. You don’t like it, I’ve been drinking too much anyway.”

Dave makes a noise of acknowledgement. “I guess if you’re. Surrounded by all this shit you drink more, I noticed I drank more when we were performing. To compensate for not taking drugs or something, I guess you gotta fit in somehow.”

“There’s basically no tolerance for straight edge.”

“I don’t mind it if. If you wanna drink, not at all. Even if it kinda scares me. But it’s drugs I’m worried about.” Dave sighs, and he peels himself away from Frank. “We should get dressed, baby. I don’t wanna keep Hal waiting when he gets here. You said we gotta make a quick escape, anyway. Make sure the band doesn’t find you.”

“Sure.” Frank smiles softly. Dave gets up and feels along the walls for the light switch. The first thing he does is cover his modesty. Frank watches him stumble around, in to his clothes, but he pauses at the side unit for an abnormally long time. “What’s wrong?”

Dave turns around, shaking, with a bag in his hand. LSD, or coke, one of the two. He can’t remember. “What’s this? Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

He pauses for an unnaturally long time. “It’s not mine.”

“It is, isn’t it? It is and you _lied_ to me.” Dave trembles. “Oh god, Frank, you _promised_.”

“Dave, I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you do it? It’s so dangerous. You could die from taking this shit. And you’re probably addicted by now and I don’t know how to help you, I don’t know what we’re gonna do.” There’s a moment in which he starts crying out of fear, and he drops the little bag on the floor. He wipes up his tears and tries to string a sentence together. “I’ll be here for you, I will, but we gotta get you out of here first. We have to.”

Frank stands, and holds Dave up against him. He lets himself get a little weak in Dave’s arms, falls against him and sighs. Grows weak there because he feels safe in knowing Dave only wanted the best for him, that Dave’s going to protect him and help him through it.

“I knew this was a terrible idea.” Dave sighs. “I just had a horrible feeling it was going to end badly and I hate the fact I was right. I should have come the minute I suspected anything. I just... I can’t believe it. That you’d do that, that you’d break that promise. I only wanted you to be safe, that was it.”

“You suspected something and you said nothing?”

“Of course I suspected something was going on, but I trusted you. I didn’t want you to think I was too worried because deep down I thought you wouldn’t do it.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Frank sighs softly.

Dave pulls himself away and faces the door. He bites on the sides of his cheeks, rubs at his arms. He’s scared, but he’s glad he got here in time to save Frank. Any longer and he might be too far gone but he seems to be okay. Yet still he feels betrayed. Like what he begged Frank not to do didn’t matter for whatever reason even if this promise meant the world to him. It * _hurts_ *. It really hurts. What’s worse is that Frank treated it like a sacred oath, to put Dave at ease - ’ _I’d never do that to you, baby_ ’ - and yet he didn’t, the minute Dave was out of earshot he did it.

“We’ll talk about it... god, what’s Hal gonna do? He won’t be able to sleep.”

There’s a heavy pause, where Frank grips his arms so tight his nails leave deep purpleish marks in his skin. He swallows down his thickening throat and bites back what could be a tear. There’s something weighing heavier on his mind than anything else and it’s the only man not in the room. This was his moment. This was the part where Dave gave him solace, where Dave took him close and told him it was all going to be alright. But it came tumbling back to Hal, just like it always does.

“It’s always about Hal, isn’t it?” He shakes his head slowly, eyes growing cynical and cold. 

“What?” Dave turns back slowly to face him. 

“You’re always fucking talking about Hal. I’m starting to think you love him more. Everything comes back to him, even this, where I need you in my darkest hour - it’s Hal you worry about.”

“I don’t love him more than I love you. And you’re, you’re a grown man, Frank. You know that this is bad for you. I want to cosset you but I’m hurt right now.”

“You _do_ love him more than me. I bet if he did this you wouldn’t be such a dick about it. I bet if he broke a promise, you would just cuddle him until he felt better. Wouldn’t you?”

“Frank, you broke a promise and you _lied_ to me - am I supposed to just pretend it’s all sunshine and fucking rainbows? You’ve endangered yourself while swearing to me you were just fine.”

“Answer the question.” He says, voice harsh and cold.

Dave doesn’t for a while, taken aback by Frank’s change in demeanour. It scares him. “I _would_ be mad if he broke a promise. This whole thing stems from how I love you both in different ways.”

“And in what way do you love me? Is it because I fuck you good?” Frank chides. The accusation makes Dave tremble.

“Why are you being like this?”

“You don’t have an answer, do you?”

“No, I’m asking you why you’re acting like this.”

Dave’s uncomfortable being put on the spot like this and he doesn’t know how to put his love in to words. He’s shaking with fear he’ll say something wrong, that Frank will have any reason to get all the more mad at him. 

“Because I’m right, and it always is about Hal, and you only want me because he isn’t ready to have sex yet.” 

“It’s not that. I _love_ you, Frank. This is the way it’s always been, so why now?”

Frank slams his fist down on the cabinet and yells out. He yanks at his hair. Dave tries his best to soothe him but Frank nearly smacks him away. He saves Frank from the guilt of doing so by taking a step backwards. He takes a moment to breathe and collect himself. Tries hard not to be angry and lets himself breathe, inwards, outwards, every-which-way-wards. Like Hal taught him to. He tries to guide Frank in to the same routine of breathing in and out, to calm him down. Stabilise him, because if he does then everything will be fine. It works partway, but Frank’s still pulling and grasping at himself uncomfortably. His phone buzzes in his pocket - the text is from Hal. He’s outside.

“Get dressed. I’ll get your stuff together, we’re getting out of here.”

“Fuck that, Dave.” Frank crosses his arms.

“Please. We’re going to work through this together.” Dave nearly breaks in to a sob while he begs. “I know you’re feeling like shit but I promise you I’m going to help you-“

“No. No, you can go off with your boyfriend.” Frank scowls. “You go off with Hal, right now, and have your happily ever after.”

“Frank, _please._ I’ll forget this ever happened and we can go back to being happy. I want you. I want to help you. I _l_ _ove_ you.”

“I’m gonna give you a choice. You stay here with me and forget about Hal. You live a life touring because this is what I want. Or you go out there and go home with Hal, and have that perfect little suburb life I _know_ you want.”

“So that’s it? I either aid you in your death or leave you to your own devices? That’s my choice?”

“Because I know you’re gonna take the second one.”

“If you want me to go then I will. I’m gonna go get married to Hal, and we’re gonna have babies and live in the suburbs and I know you’re gonna come crawling back to me and I want you to know that when that happens I will be there with open arms for you.”

He bites back the tears as he leaves the hotel room but he knows it for the best, that Frank has to row this way. The idea of leaving him on his own while he’s hooked on drugs is abhorrent. It’s terrifying - genuinely. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to help. But he’s going to try - by god, Dave Bowman _is_ going to help the man he loves so dearly. By any means necessary, and when he does Frank will come back to him. This will be the tiniest blip in their beautiful relationship but for now he needs time. He needs to know what he has to do. He’s going to do everything in his power to save him.

Yet he is still crying his eyes out as he gets in to the car, as Hal reaches over to cuddle him. Maybe Frank is right. Maybe he can’t help and he will do exactly what Frank said he was going to do. Get married. Move in to the suburbs. Have babies. When they’re all grown up, they’ll get a crusty eyed handbag dog and go swiftly in to retirement where they’ll die unfulfilled. Or maybe Frank comes back, and the three of them have a big alternative family, six or seven kids hooked on rock music and a minivan to carry them all. When their babies are all grown up, the three of them will retire to the silty banks of Lake Michigan and live like old hippies, madly in love. Maybe. Just maybe.


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

When Frank finds his way to Hal and Dave’s apartment he second guesses himself. He nearly walks away. They don’t need to see him again. They probably don’t want to, either, but even if he’s leaving he wants to make amends with them before he goes. It’s hard to admit it, but Dave and Hal are the people he’s hurt the most. When he finds their door it takes him a moment to muster up the courage. He doesn’t know if he will be welcomed or shooed away. He doesn’t even know who he’ll see on the other side - Dave seems like a distant memory and yet so clear in his head.

He knocks and waits. There’s shuffling at the other side, and cooing. When Dave opens the door, the first thing Frank sees is a cranky, tired looking toddler sat on his hip. His eyes widen and he gasps, a smile growing on his face.

“Frank!” There’s not a moment’s hesitation. Dave welcomes him in quickly. 

“You, um. Who’s this little guy?” Frank motions towards the toddler.

“I had myself a baby!“ Dave’s smile is bright, he looks down at his son and kisses him on the head. The baby’s completely unimpressed by the affection. “This is Elijah, and he’s eighteen months old now. Aren’t you?” He tickles Elijah’s chin, which does trigger some kind of happy response, but the moment it’s over he goes back to staring Frank down. He clearly doesn’t mean it, but he doesn’t seem too happy about a new person being there.

“He’s adorable.” 

“Come in, come in - you’ll have to excuse the mess.”

It’s homely, and it’s warm, and it smells a little like baby powder. There’s a certain sweetness there, the kind made of juice and candy. The first thing Frank sees is an aperture full of photographs on the wall. They document Elijah from birth to roundabout where he is now, plus or minus a few months. Hal’s his dad, of course, he’s in a lot of the photos. He looks a lot like Dave, with big dark ringlets. Like Hal, he’s got dark skin and chubby cheeks. He’s got brown eyes sparkling with gold, big and haunting like Dave’s, with sprawling spidery lashes to match. He _does_ smile in photographs, where Frank can see he’s got little rosy cheeks and stubby hands, chunky wrists and dimples. He looks like someone took the best of both of them and made a baby.

He enters the living room and takes a look around. It’s messy, more so than he expected, filled to the brim with noisy toys, baby books and sensory fiddlers. The epicentre of the mess is a pop-up crib with mesh sides, filled with blankets and only the cuddliest, cutest stuffed animals. Of course, _Hal’s_ son, of all people, would be a connoisseur of stuffed animals.

“Elijah got a little wild while we were playing - do you want a drink?” Dave suddenly becomes conscious of the mess as he notices Frank cataloguing it. 

He’s not judgemental, but he’s instead filled with a pang of regret. This could’ve been him. He could’ve been a dad, he could’ve had a baby with Hal and Dave. He could’ve been in the photos on the walls and the fact he isn’t is unexpectedly eating at him. He didn’t think they would’ve had a baby by now but they have. Even if he enters the relationship he will never be this baby’s dad in the same way they are. There could always be some kind of animosity towards him, a tiny repelling force where Hal will always be taken a little more seriously or Dave will get priority hugs.

He hates even thinking like he would be welcome here after what he did to Dave. After being so selfish he couldn’t even allow someone who adored him to help him. He sees just how much Dave loved him now, and to some extent how much he still must. He’s a little more aged around the eyes, a little more mature in his features, but he is still Dave Bowman, the boy with wild curly hair that Frank was so in love with. His smiles still light up a room, his eyes are still reminiscent of the glistening ocean. If Frank were to kiss him he has no qualms that Dave would still be just as soft as he always was against him. That kissing him or making love to him would still be just as sensual and appealing. He is the same Dave Bowman as he has always been. 

Frank Poole is not the same person he was eight years ago and he’s glad of it. The only thing is that he is unsure that Dave would still love him just like he did all those years ago. Is he too far gone from the bygone Frank Poole that Dave loved so readily? He feels like he’s changed a lot since Dave left him but only Dave or Hal could ever be the judge of that. They knew him best - when he left, he barely knew himself.

“What have you got?” 

“Apple juice, orange juice, milk. I think we have lemonade, but it might be flat and gross by now because I bought it a while ago.”

Dave’s a dad. He’s a full blown dad that drinks nothing but orange juice because his baby loves having it in the house. He plays with noisy toys and wrangles his little boy in to real clothes and does his hair and tells him what a handsome and smart little fella he is. Even if he doesn’t, Frank can imagine it so well. The embodiment of the tenderness and gentle love Dave used to give to him.

“Um, apple juice please.”

Dave nods. The toddler on his side lets out an angry little whine. Dave puts him in the little crib and totters away. Tiny Elijah looks up at Frank and glares, little lips pursed, arms something reminiscent of folded. He’s skeptical, so Frank kneels in front of his little padded jail cell and smiles at him. Taps his little nose. The toddler’s face lights up in to a golden smile, and seeing his cheeks become rosy and sweet hurts much more than Frank expects it to.

“Oh, I think he likes you.” Dave hands him a carton of apple juice, and gives the small boy in the crib a bottle of milk. 

Dave fusses over him for a few minutes - while Frank stands from the floor and looks around anxiously - and has him lie down on his side. It’s afternoon nap time. They have to stay quiet, but they have to stay in the room so he’ll sleep. He’s picky like that. Frank watches idly, with a little smile on his face as Elijah lays sleeping in his crib. He’s cute, adorable even. His arms are above his head, his chubby hands balled in to fists, his legs are splayed across the crib with his tiny socked feet pointing upwards. His stuffed animals and blankets surround him but he is unobstructed in the very centre. When he’s asleep he looks just like Dave. The blank expression on his face is the very same Dave used to pull when he was tuckered out. It means he’s sleeping well, if Dave is anything to go by.

“Where’s Hal?” Frank tilts his head, still sipping at the apple juice. His plastic cup has little bees flying around it and clinking chips of ice inside. No doubt pulled haphazardly from the side, the first thing that was clean. 

“He’s at work.” Dave explains as Frank sips at his juice carton. “I go to work tomorrow, and Hal looks after Elijah, then he goes to work the next day and I look after him and so forth. It’s a really good way for us to both spend time with him.”

Frank nods in response. With Elijah settled, they sit down on the couch. “I think that’s a good way to do it. You got a new job?”

“Yeah, I have actually. I went back to school for my degree and now I’m working a remote mission control position - I’m far too old to be an astronaut now but I can help the young ones.”

“You’re only, what, thirty six? You could totally go up.”

“Nearly thirty seven, by the time I was done training I’d be forty, I think that’s a bit too old... besides, for me, space has lost it’s pull. Ever since little Elijah was born I haven’t wanted to leave him for one second. I can’t imagine leaving him here and going up there.”

“I see. I think it’s funny, one time you said you’d name your baby something biblical.”

“Yeah, it just turned out that way in the end. Bobby was a strong contender, too, but we decided against it. I thought it might be a bit painful, though he. He does look a lot like him.”

Frank peers over at the baby. He can see the resemblance if he remembers the pictures he’s seen correctly - which he’s not sure he does - he seems a lot less delicate than Dave in his structure, more robust.

“He’s got that same kinda strength.” Dave sighs. “And he’s a boisterous little dude - sometimes I like to think that his soul’s come back to me.” He pauses for a moment and a smile comes across his lips. “He said, this one time, and he was high as fuck - well, okay, it was more than that, he rattled off this whole theory to me about reincarnation and space and watching over the ones you love, and I can’t remember it very well, but he said that. That if you weren’t done yet then souls would stay together. With family. I like to think that’s what happened, that he wasn’t done and I guess now he’s my son, he stayed with me. It’s weird but it helps me with the resemblance.”

Frank really considers that. There’s a lot to take in. Dave’s never been spiritual before. It’s not his thing. 

Yet he only nods in response. There’s a little silence as Frank mulls it over, but he speaks again. “How’d you have him? I can’t imagine you’d...” 

“Oh, I didn’t! We went for a surrogate.” Dave explains with a smile. “I cried when I held him the first time, he was just so precious - I have photos if you want to see.” 

“I do, could you show me?”

Dave stands and fumbles around the bookshelf for a moment and finds the camera tucked away in a sleeve. He brings it over, and turns it on. He spends a few moments flickering through the photos on the display before he gets to the photo of him and baby Elijah. 

The newborn’s so young he’s still red, but he’s quietly swaddled in Dave’s arms. He’s looking up with his big doe eyes (he looks so much like Hal it’s unreal, despite the fact they can’t possibly be related) and Dave’s looking right back at him in tears. That could’ve been him. That could have been _his_ son, but he just didn’t listen to Dave that fateful night, over eight years ago. He looks at the sweet image a little too long, his eyes cloud over a little too much. He hands the camera back without saying anything, and they both know exactly what he’s thinking. Dave puts a hand on his shoulder.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re. You’re here now.” Dave smiles. “And I’m not mad at you or anything, you were. Having a terrible time of it. I should have been more understanding.”

“You _were_ understanding. When I look back all I see is how selfish I was to you. All you and Hal ever did was love me, and I guess I was a little greedy.”

“Well, I forgave you a long time ago. I’m not angry.” 

“I’m sorry.” He keeps his hands far away from Dave, afraid of hurting him or even making him uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry.”

Yet he falls in to Dave’s arms. He falls so far in to Dave’s arms it’s like being finally caught after falling for the past eight years. The storm inside him grows calm in the very place the unrest that has consumed him started. He didn’t know he could know peace again but he does here and it does him good. After all this time, Dave still smells like axe body spray and butterscotch.

“I know you are. I know you’re sorry and I know you never wanted to hurt either of us.” Dave shakes his head as Frank unknowingly sobs in to his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re home now and I don’t need to know where you’ve been.”

“I’m clean now, I promise. Fully clean, straight edge, I even stopped smoking. I have been for about a year.” 

“Good, that’s good. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you.” Frank whispers. He’s realised he’s crying and he’s trying to stop desperately. He doesn’t feel strong enough to break down but he’s not strong enough to stay upright.

“I’ve missed you too.” Dave responds, equally quiet and soft in his voice. “Don’t you cry, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“I can’t believe I did that to you.“

“It’s okay. I love you, you were struggling. I should’ve been more caring.”

“But you were.”

There’s a pause between them as Frank collects himself and his feelings. It’s all a little much at this very moment. Dave rocks him side to side and Frank goes slack against him. He’s a lot less lanky now, his body seems fuller and softer, but it’s just as warm as it always was. Even his shoulders seem to have filled out, his chest seems to have broadened out. Frank is less so, he’s become as bony as Dave was when their breakup in the hotel room occurred.

“What about Hal?”

“He’s missed you.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll be happy to see me. Who’d want me near their kid?”

“I want you near him. You’re a good person, I know you’ll never hurt him.” Dave soothes, running his fingers down Frank’s neck. “I’m so happy you’re here, baby. I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Oh god, Dave, I’ve missed you too.” He whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hal comes home after a while, and strangely he’s happy to see Frank. More than that, really. It’s rather difficult to describe his outlook. He is happy to see Frank. He’s overly handsy, and he’s certainly cuddly and he seems to have already forgiven him, just like Dave did. Yet there’s a slight jaunt in his movements now that wasn’t there before. Frank reads it as apprehension. He seems to be overly watchful when Frank interacts with Elijah, which is rather surface level but still enough for him to get a good view of who Elijah is as a person.

He’s playful, he’s sweet and very affectionate when you get to know him and he’s had a nap. He calls Hal his poppa, and Dave is dadda, though they think that might turn in to daddy as he gets a little older. He’s got what doctors think to be a little bit of a speech impediment but he’s still progressing so that’s a good sign. He’s definitely Hal’s son because he adores stuffed animals and he makes a point of showing Frank his ragamuffin (a word he can barely pronounce, but does quite well at) which Frank thinks might be a mix between a rabbit, a blanket, and a cat. He’s had it since he was a baby, as well as several of Hal’s, which Frank recognises one by one. He even surprises Elijah by greeting a few of them like old friends, a gesture that wins a whole lot of surprise. He knows their names, why not? As the minutes turn in to hours he grows cranky and testy again, little eyebrows knitted together and a tiny pout on his face that seems to be learnt from Hal. 

Hal puts him to bed in his real crib, while Dave cleans. Frank helps him, it’s wonderfully domestic. They eat dinner together, they have a few drinks. It’s beautiful. The fact that he still fits in with them so perfectly even after the time that’s passed. It’s as if he came home with Dave, as if eight years had never separated them. They treat him like family, like their partner, never like a burden. Even Hal loosens up over time, he becomes more fluid. 

He’s changed a lot too. He’s a lot more comfortable where he is, less aware of the space he takes up. He doesn’t stim as often, he speaks in a much more conversational tone, with little inflections that there hadn’t been much of before. It’s not perfect. He’s still Hal, he still holds a stuffed animal while they talk and he occasionally puts strange emphases on words. He has a few new new stims and they’re clicking his tongue right at the back of his mouth, or silently repeating a single syllable. Some of the old ones are there too but he doesn’t paw at his face. They’re reserved, inwards, not outwards. He serves them with a gentle smile. He has better control of himself now. Everything about him is more refined. He is coping now, and Frank’s happy to see it.

A lot has happened since he left. The band dissolved obviously, but they have money for him that they saved. His fill, that they left in a high interest account for him. There’s a lot in there, the last time they checked. They had to sell the condo because it was too expensive - they downsized to a much smaller apartment and saved up to have a baby. Got married at a small ceremony (where Chandra famously cried on video because his baby was getting married) while the surrogate was carrying because it was legalised. They did invite Frank, but sadly never received correspondence, mostly because they sent it to his mother who hadn’t the slightest idea of his whereabouts. They had to move after Elijah was born, their new apartment is enough for Elijah to grow for a few years but they might have to move again because he’s getting bigger, even if he’s barely two. They’re thinking Florida, because Dave’s got history there, and his job would naturally bring him there too. He wants to work in real mission control and the like. They’re saving for Dave’s bottom surgery though he’s a lot happier to wait for it now than he was eight years ago. For his baby, he says, he’d put anything on hold - and hey, it’s not like he can’t grow a beard or chest hair. Now he’s committed it just doesn’t matter as much as it used to. He hasn’t had a one night stand since Frank left and he’s actually a little proud of it.

They think they might want another baby too. The idea of that makes Frank quite happy - because he knows it could involve him. He could be a dad, he could hold that baby just like Dave held Elijah. He could wrap them up in his jacket when they were cold, and hold them close, and kiss their little forehead, and put them on his chest and say ‘can you say daddy?’ Even if he knows that baby’s a little too young to say it. He wants to be a dad. He thinks he might be ready for it.

There’s one more thing. The band.

This is the way the band ends. Not with a bang, but in Dave and Hal’s living room, with patient, wishful smiles and wistful wants of days past? It is insincere. It *would* be nice to do a show again. But what about Elijah? Chandra’s going back to Boston for a while, they wouldn’t have a babysitter. Sal certainly won’t want to join either - no use getting a replacement drummer for a few shows. Dave’s put on a bit of weight since he became a dad and he’s not too comfortable exposing his chest like he used to, he’d have to lose it first. Hal’s trying to avoid detrimental environments where he can as part of a desire to cope, performing always put him on edge. Frank’s voice has deteriorated from drug use and he’s not touched a bass in years, he’d really have to work in order to up his skills. Sal’s really just trying to start her own music career properly and Discovery One coming back on the scene might distract attention from her. Her girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate it either.

It makes a lot of sense. It’s simply inconvenient now that a lot more hangs in the balance. Kids, mortgages, marriages, savings funds. Dave, Hal, and Sal have all grown up. They’re real adults with real-world responsibilities and commitments. Frank was stuck in a dream world of sorts, one where he thought that when he came back he would have everything. He still has the men he loves but it comes with the burden of the maturity which allowed them to forgive him in the first place. Discovery One is over. The band’s not getting back together, not for a single show. But it’s nice to think that some day it just might.

After everything has been said and done, Frank has to go. He cannot stay here, because despite it all he can’t forgive himself as quickly and quietly as they have. When he does he will come back. He will ever so readily sleep with them, invade their home and their family when he feels ready to do so. When he knows that he will not hurt them, or Elijah, with his actions. He’s close, but he’s not there yet and he’s not selfish enough to endanger them. Even if there is no danger. He poses no threat and he knows it but it’s trust of himself that bogs him down more than anything. He would stay, but when he looks at Dave’s warm smile and open arms, his heart simply shatters. He cannot trust himself with Dave, even though he knows he could never hurt him or betray him again. 

Dave stops him as he is about to leave, and walk away. He’s said his goodbyes, explained he’s already got somewhere to stay, but Dave ever so softly puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look.

“You really don’t have to go.” He says softly. “You can stay here, we want you here, don’t think you’re not welcome here.”

It’s everything he doesn’t want to hear despite the softness and kindness of the sentiment. _We love you_ , he hears. _We want you to be safe, we‘ve forgiven you, we love you._

“Not yet.” Is all he has to respond with. Dave understands, though begrudgingly, and holds his hand. 

“Are you. Leaving forever?” Dave’s head tilts.

“I don’t think so.” He doesn’t plan on it, but it might happen. Even though they love him so much, he might never be able to face them again after what he’s done. “But it’s gonna be a while. I just wanted to see you both.”

“We’ll be waiting right here until you come back, but you better do it. You have no clue how much I want to be Dave Chandra-Poole.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

He’s going to come back. He is _going_ to come back, he vows it to himself there and then because it’s proof someone still loves him. It’s stone proof that Dave still adores him. There’s nothing that could be empty in that sentiment. It’s not just a sentiment, it’s a pure admittance of desire and care. He’s coming back and when he does he’s going to give Dave everything he wants.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, even when you worked in a coffee shop and gave me heatlamp brownies you weren’t supposed to give me and a jar of coffee every morning.” 

“I love you too, Dave. I love you too much, and I don’t want to hurt you. I just need time to know I won’t.”

“Okay. Of course.” Dave nods softly. “Please, baby, keep yourself safe.”

“I will.” 

Their lips meet together, and Frank was right. Dave’s lips are soft, perhaps even softer than they were, and the way he kisses is sensual and unforgettable. The way he knots his hands in the back of Frank’s hair, the way his cheeks turn red and warm what little air is left between their bodies. It’s like he never left. Dave kisses him and feels him with all the reverence he used to, perhaps even more after losing him for so long. Wildly, madly in love. 

Frank doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay. He wants to curl up with Dave and be a father to Elijah and the other children they could have and he wants to marry Dave and Hal (if not legally, then spiritually) and get a minivan with stickers on the back to drive the kids around in and one day live on the shores of Lake Michigan with them both like ageing hippies. To live and love, to abandon the tumultuous eight years he’s emerged from and to live in the moment. There is nothing he wants more. And he could stay. He could go back in there and tell them everything, tell them how much he loves them, and he knows they’ll let him in with open arms and without a second thought. Knowing they can trust him with their son and future children, knowing he will trust them to nurse him through the harder parts of the steps to recovery. 

Will he stay? Will he go? For now he doesn’t know, as his lips stay so intertwined with Dave’s. He could be gone for a week or a year but he would still come back. He would always come back here, for them, to love them. Or by god, he could stay. He could be theirs forever, he could start the rest of his life right now. 

He slips his tongue in to Dave’s mouth. He thinks of Dave and Hal. Of past sins and future prospects, of coke and minivans and five kids in various emo stages, and he slips a smile in to the kiss. Then and there, he knows what’s for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> luv yall <3


End file.
